Great — another hellspawn
Memo to my newly knocked-up cousin who had the audacity to call after five years just to invite me to her baby shower:
Blow me, bitch. I fucking mean it. Sure, we were inseparable as kids, but we grew up. You and your family conveniently forgot about me and mine, sequestering yourselves into your own little world and shutting us out. You called me five years ago to invite me to your bridal shower and your wedding. Mom sent gifts to your shower; I provided expensive, unique wedding gifts for you and your redneck husband. At the wedding, you didn’t see fit to even SPEAK to us, only providing us with rigatoni and fried chicken at a fucking FIRE HALL WEDDING RECEPTION (yinz Pennsylvanians know what I’m talkin’ about!). And we never even got so much as a “thank you for coming,” and god forbid, we never saw a thank-you card from your greedy ass.
So today, I find that you’re knocked up by that damn derelict with the mullet. *shudder* How dare you insist that I drive 250 miles to give you a gift for your hellspawn that my tax dollars will probably be feeding. You probably wouldn’t send a thank-you or even let me see the kid via a photo. And your mother was shocked when my mom said I would not be making the drive for you. You think I’m heartless, but guess what? My best friend has a baby, and I will spoil that child rotten as long as I have the emotional and financial means to do so. I highly doubt I will (want to) have my own, so I treat that little girl like she is mine because her mother has been a sister to me for the years during which you were so gleefully absent from the milestones in MY life.
I don’t see why we single folk are stuck buying gifts every time our family members get married or squirt out a child. And I don’t mind doing it when the recipient holds a piece of my heart that would otherwise be void if he or she weren’t in our lives. If I were the one engaged or pregnant, would you give a shit? Beyond giving a gift (and I’m no gift whore), would you really even care that I were experiencing a major life event? I think not.
Good luck. I really do wish you all the best. I just choose not to be there to celebrate with you for your events because you so clearly only want to share them with me when it involves me dumping a few hundred dollars on your cause.
I hope your child looks like you — that ugly-ass husband of yours has no business sharing his scraggly features and white trash mannerisms with another human being.
Fuck off.
Love,
Dawn
On iTunes: Faith Hill, “Cry”