Bragging Rights

You might be surprised to learn that my parents are not jumping off the rooftop singing my praises these days. I don’t know why. I have a loving partner. I am ‘with child’. I own my own home. Life looks pretty good on paper.

Oh, wait. That loving partner is a big black bear named Sherman. That child is a female cat named Richard Hatch (because she bitches and doesn’t pay taxes). And that home—it’s a big cavern that sits on a mountain-top in the middle of the forest my car broke-down in front of. It still feels pretty damn good, but it looks a little better on papers, is all I’m saying.

“Your parents should be proud,” fawns Sherman, my domestic partner. Although, I don’t know how accurate the term domestic is, considering we live in the bush. However, unlike Miss Richard, when I file my taxes, it is as a couple. “What’s not to love about you?”

Sherman really is sweet. That nun that keeps calling him the spawn of Satan has really missed the mark. If anyone deserves that title, it is my grandmother, and even her deal with the devil has recently timed out. So, it would really be nice for Sister Sylvia to stop throwing rotten eggs into the entrance of our cave.

“I know you love me, Sherman,” I sigh, taking his head in my hands and kissing him gently on the nose. “But, my parents think I am something of a hot mess.”

I feel bad complaining about my parents considering we just got back from visiting Sherman’s parents. The problem wasn’t that they live far, or even their tempestuous nature, but the fact that they are in prison. Well, bear prison. This would be the zoo.

To be honest, I was kind of excited to go and see them because I can’t recall ever having been to a zoo before. My parents were lazy and so we tended to vacation at The Holiday Inn—swimming pool, sauna and pay-per-view, what what!—so even though I knew this was supposed to be a difficult venture, I admit that I was looking forward to it.

“Now, just let me do the talking,” Sherman had counselled me, as though I were going up to testify in his defense in some court hearing and was bound to fuck things up. “I haven’t told my parents about us yet.” This probably should have bothered me more than it did, but Sherman had purchased me a chai latte and it is my weakness. Well, that and big black bears that take care of me, so really, how was I going to get mad at someone currently shooting two-for-two.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’m going to go look at the giraffes. Take your time.” I think he grimaced at the casual nature I was taking with this whole scenario, but I knew he was stressed about it, and I really didn’t want to add to that. And by add to it, I mean deal with it. Sherman is the one with his head on his shoulders in this relationship. I, on the other hand, am not good in tense situations. “Call me when you think it’s a good time.”

I walked off to ‘see the giraffes’ which was code for ‘find the cotton candy’, which is all I really wanted to do. I mean, I live in the forest and am surrounded by wildlife, why would I want to come and see all of the same stuff locked up in cages. It would be like owning a private pool and paying to go and swim in a public one that people can urinate in. Obviously this is just stupid. And gross.

By the time I heard Sherman’s laborious roar—the same one he uses when I’ve been watching Hell’s Kitchen for too long—I had almost chowed down on a full stick of the sugary-goodness. I probably would have gotten rid of all of the evidence, but I had stumbled upon the nacho stand first. I idled over to his parents’ cell in a veritable sugar-coma.

“Hi Mom!” I squealed. Ever since I had gotten drunk at a karaoke bar and woken up next to a biker with a mullet the size of my husband’s bear-paw I had sworn off both alcohol and sugar. Clearly my tolerance had deteriorated and the cotton candy was taking its toll on me. ‘Mom’ was pissed.

“Roarrrrrrrrrrr!” Gina growled. I can’t blame her. I would be pretty pissed if I was stuck in a zoo and my son was dating someone super-cool like me too.

“Wow Gina!” I said, doubling back. “Watch it with that breathe. Floss much?”

Clearly this was not the right introduction. In retrospect, a cautious hello would have probably been better. But, then again, I have never been one for small talk.

“Mom, I’d like to introduce you to my live-in-lover,” Sherman said, wrapping his arms around my shoulders in a full-embrace. “This is Scott.”

I could see why Gina wouldn’t necessarily be full-on impressed with me, but there was no reason for her to do what she did next. She tried to climb over the fence and attack me. When this failed, she started cleaning herself.

“Oh, how disgusting,” I said, before realizing that I am really no one to judge this sort of behaviour. So, to make Gina feel a little more at home, I began grooming myself as well. This seemed to make her relax—at least enough to relieve herself in front of me. Then she seemed to get bored and froliced off toward the man with the fish.

“That’s mom,” smiled Sherman. “She is kind of a hobgoblin, but I love her.”

“So do I!” I over-embellished. “The bitch has spunk! She kind of reminds me of Tonya Harding. You know, in all the good ways.”

Then Sherman’s father, Teddy, wandered up to us.

“Hi dad,” Sherman smiled, pushing his head up against the cage and allowing his father to give him a big lick up side the face. “Daddy!”

“Oh, get a room would you!” I gushed, trying to make them feel like they were a big deal.  They both smiled. It’s pretty safe to say that Sherman has gotten all of his maternal instincts from his father, and not from the mean lady that is now biting the poor zoo-keeper who is trying to feed her.

Then I stuck my head up to the side of the cage and let Teddy lick it too. “Oh, get a room would you!” Sherman hollered, all the while smiling.

So, like I was saying, I feel bad complaining about my own parents when Sherman’s are in lock-down, but at least his are the co-presidents of Sherman’s Biggest Fans Club. “Well, your drag-queen father is a pretty big supporter of yours,” Sherman smiles, meekly.

“Yeah, right,” I say, rolling my eyes. It’s not that my drag-queen father isn’t a supporter, but he is off being a Cher-impersonator most of the time. The fact that I never joined him as Lady Gaga or Britney Spears really gets his chops. “He likes anyone who brings him glitter.”

“Just because you dropped out of law school doesn’t mean your parents aren’t proud of you,” Sherman says, trying to console me. “You’ve done a lot of other really neat things I’m sure they’re impressed by.”

“Like what?” I pout. “Getting my piece-of-shit Hyundai stuck in the middle of the forest?”

“No, like the year you spent teaching art in Nunavut.”

“Right,” I say, rolling my eyes again. “All of my students were better than me.”

‘Well, isn’t that the mark of a good teacher?”

“I guess,” I deliberate. “What else do you got?”

“What about the summer you spent in Ethiopia working with trauma victims.”

“I guess that was one of my finer moments,” I agree. “But, I can’t help thinking my parents think I’m a failure. Partly because I’m a law school drop-out and partly because I can’t impersonate Lady Gaga, but also because they don’t approve of our love the way Gina and Teddy do. It’s not their fault. It’s the world they were raised in. It isn’t as accepting as the forest.”

“Well, that’s tough,” smiles Sherman. “But, it could be a lot worse.”

“It could. You’re right,” I smile. “I could be that skanky little skunk that keeps trying to seduce you. At least I have the one I love, and, for whatever reason, you seem to love me too. Why is that again?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Sherman sighs in resignation. “Just do.”

“And don’t get me wrong. I am so grateful that I found you, because I never thought I would. I just hate that they think I’m a failure.”

“Why do you think they wanted you to be a lawyer…or Lady Gaga?” Sherman asks.

“I don’t know,” I say, scratching my head. “So they can brag to their friends?”

“Right, but…”

“But they don’t have any friends…?”

“No,” Sherman screams in exasperation. “They just need to know there are other things to brag about when it comes to you.”

“Like what?” I ask, unbelievingly.

“Like that you follow your heart, even when it takes you down paths that the world you grew up in told you you weren’t allowed to venture down. Like that you found the love of your life and, in spite of a world that told you to hate yourself, you knew enough to not only love yourself but to love me too.”

I smile at this. It is totally true.

“Like how you make me smile and laugh every day. Like how the world of the person you love the most is made complete because of you. Like how you, in spite of all your flaws, are perfect in my eyes and unconditional in your love for those around you.”

I have to say, I am touched. I’m bound to get another chai latte out of this too.

“If your parents can’t be proud of that, then we’ll just have to spend all of our holidays at the zoo.”

“Well, they do make a mean cotton candy,” I smile. "And it's way better than The Holiday Inn."

“True that,” says Sherman. “Besides, if you hadn’t failed at all that other stuff, you never would have had the chance to succeed at making me happy, and you are the only one who’s ever been able to do that.”

That’s touching. Not enough for me to hug his beastly, iron-wielding, mother the next time we go to the zoo, but certainly enough for me to brag about him the next time I go to cheer-on my drag-queen father during his Cher-impersonation-tour.

I’m beginning to think that this life is definitely something worth bragging about.