I used to be in love with a tremendously wild boy. In his veins, even in those that I adored, were running more frenzy and lout ideas than some blood. Never would he stop kidding me about our marriage plans. Every morning his favorite first words for the day were: “Baby, Joe has been very obedient, won’t you give him a morning kiss?” Surely, you can guess what “Joe” stands for.
The rest of his morning repertoire included: “When will you marry me?! Let’s do it now!” Of course, he was drooling as always. I would reply to this with: “Sure, but you have to ask my hand from my mother first.” He knew that I was just pulling his leg, and kept on asking: “When are you going to meet me with your mommy, I want to ask your hand!” I think it was time for me to become a joker, too. Once I called him and said that he is invited to dinner with my family. My boyfriend’s voice would always betray him, he answered: “Alright ma baby, I’ll be right there!” But that insecureness choking his otherwise confident timber was worth hearing.
I did my best to be insufficiently serious on the phone, but once the call had finished me and my mother had a watery laugh together. My mother was all right, but my father was quite a wayward personality. Hardly had he accepted his son being gay, and now he was going to meet his son’s beloved one – another boy. My boyfriend had no idea what his cracked temper was going to cause him. I was excited and ready to have tons of laughter that evening. A car stopped in front of our villa, it was him. I was able to see him across the frontally positioned window, his gesture was capable of filling a novel about tortures and unrest. He insecurely rang the doorbell and I went to open it, he saw me, in normal conditions he would beslobber me, and toss an amourous phrase like: “Sir, where is the owner of my heart?” appealing to me, but now, he was atypically silent, I knew its reason, still I kept silent trying to control my laughter. My mom and dad had already positioned around the table, and he was late, something which would attract my dad’s anger. I introduced him to them, but I hadn’t told my dad that he is my boyfriend yet.
My dad seemed to be fine with his new friend until the moment I told him: “Dad, this is my boyfriend!” it took a second for him to digest it and he murmured: “God, why never does anything normal happen at my home?” But my dad loved me, and he had accepted me the way I am, all this was just a scenario composed by me, I wanted to see my boyfriend’s reaction. When I looked at him, that always self-confident and gallant boy was gone, he was going to ask my hand in theory but, practically he had swallowed his words after my dad’s murmur. He was so sweet, I couldn’t torture him anymore and I announced him that it was just a stage play, then his crazy temper quickly came back and he shouted: “Oh, you’ve got no idea what a cruel punishment is awaiting you tonight!” Ops, that seemed to be a bit too much even for my dad’s open-mindedness…
WISH MY DAD WAS LIKE HIS I WOULD LOVE THAT DADDY
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