Wanted: A Holiday Husband.
A gentleman in his thirties to be my faux
husband/boyfriend/guy I met at a bar
for the upcoming holiday season
(and possibly beyond).
As the last of three daughters to enter a committed relationship, my holiday options are limited. I could spend it alone with my dad and stepmom, which sounds about as fun as my yearly pelvic exam. Or I could tag along to one of my sisters in-law’s holiday celebrations. Is 29 too young to be the third-wheel crazy aunt? Do I buy his family presents? Do they give me a present? On a scale of 854 to 9,323 how awkward will it be? Surprise! When you married my sister, you got me as part of the package! Merry Christmas! I may or may not be tagging along for the next 1-15 years!
This is where you come in, holiday husband. You must have a family with whom we can spend possibly Thanksgiving and most definitely Christmas. We’ll say we met at Trader Joe’s or the dog park, or even the aforementioned bar.
Should it not be a possibility to crash your family’s holiday celebrations, you get to join me at my dad and stepmom’s house. To keep them occupied, come prepared with conversational knowledge of the following:
- C.S. Lewis: his life and legacy
- Other important Christian theologians of the twentieth century
- The Protestant Reformation
- Popular European river cruise ports-of-call
- Upcoming regional boat shows
- Novels set on the sea in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries
- Boating in general (exception: speed boats–don’t mention them)
- Ham Radio/Morse Code. I’m not sure what the difference is, nor do I care to learn, but make sure to Wikipedia it before you come
- Your favorite Opera(s)
- The current season of Homeland
- Your preferred translation of the Bible to read during your morning quiet time
- The Winds of War and War and Remembrance, both the novels and movies
- The various beaches of South Carolina, and how they are the greatest beaches in the country
- Your recent trip to Positano, Italy/anywhere on the Amalfi Coast
- Smartphone apps that allow you to text even in the event of war or civil disrupt which disables cell towers
Now I know that all seems a little unrealistic, so I will be willing to settle any non-freak (guy from Tinder with the diaper fetish, I’m looking at you). Extra points for stubbly facial hair. I’m not asking for a lot here, men.
What would Jane Austen have my character do? Surely she never had to contend with diapered crotch shots of potential suitors, so even she may be stymied in my situation.
Thank you applicants; you will be saving me from a holiday season of questions and remarks such as the bewildered “You’re such a pretty girl, Julie?” and “There’s a good one out there for you, we know it.“ Translation: “please list for me all the reasons you are still single, because dadgummit, we could be on a boat in the Caribbean right now were it not for you. Please don’t let this happen again next year.” Insert look of wow, you are really going to eat that, huh? No wonder. Followed by a cocked head, raised eyebrows, and Watch me, and I’m going to eat one more just to spite you.
We’ll part ways after the Holidays, but don’t go too far. Chances are I’ll be requiring your services again next year.
— Julie