My eldest sister's birthday was two days back. She turned 38, and is still single (apparently, you are single until you get married, irrespective of whether or not you've been dating some guy for up to 6 years or more).
As with all our birthdays, the father was moved in prayers to once more remind the good Lord of his four single daughters (and son) who are still single and seeking good partners to marry, settle down with, and add their own quotas to the world populace. I find this rather amusing, but he is well within his rights as a father (plus we DO actually want to get married, move on with our lives, and - if that isn't reason enough - move out of the nest, so we don't have to keep answering to the father as to why we are so pretty, dress so finely, are hot catches, and yet seem to not be bringing a netful of catch home with us at the end of each day).
So that morning of the 6th, Xandra father and I are in the kitchen organizing our various breakfasts, when he voices out his thought to call Tutu up to wish her a happy birthday (good! He remembered - thanks to the mother, no doubt), and also quiz her as to why she is yet to marry (not-so-good). I councelled him to let the message rest at the happy birthday bit, after all, she already has to deal with the drama of turning 38, listening to to continual ticking of her biological clock, further amplified by the fact that dozens of people are getting in touch to wish her a happy birthday. Quite frankly, I find it highly inconsiderate when people ask me why she isn't married. Firstly, how on earth should I know? I'm hardly privy to her relationship, am I? Secondly, perhaps its simply because Mr. Boyfriend has not proposed/isn't ready to commit/is waiting on divine inspiration/or something to force his hand? Thirdly, she's friggin hitting forty, of COURSE she would like to settle down and move on with her life! How's about you ask her?
At least, my dad was asking her, not me. But we must be considerate to her as well. That discussion of course quickly moved on to the expected - Do I have a boyfriend yet? (Xandra had had the good fortune of being forced into this dicussion the previous afternoon, so she was chiefly spectator here, with a few eye-rolls tossed in for effect).
Lord, please, this year still has so much of it to come. Even if its December ending, nothing is too late for you. Please let someone good in Your sight happen to my sisters, epecially Tutu. Mostly for thier sake and happiness, but also that my parents will rest. And I can have to small wedding I dream of, as opposed to some grand affair, which is the fate of whichever of us is the first to jump the broom.
Amen.
Watched Bounty Hunter with Emmanuel last night. The movie was good, and Emmanuel was good company. I'm mostly thankful that so far, we only get to watch movies together, and in a theatre at that. Else, how would I handle his continuous staring, repetitive declarations, poor proposals (someday, I'm actually going to say yes to one of these guys, just to get a response), and the awkward moments in between that come up - this time, my underwire (or what is at that location, seeing as the bra I was wearing was underwireless) cutting into my side, and having to adjust that with him sitting on that side of me, and the ensuing explanation and comment.
Oy.
As with all our birthdays, the father was moved in prayers to once more remind the good Lord of his four single daughters (and son) who are still single and seeking good partners to marry, settle down with, and add their own quotas to the world populace. I find this rather amusing, but he is well within his rights as a father (plus we DO actually want to get married, move on with our lives, and - if that isn't reason enough - move out of the nest, so we don't have to keep answering to the father as to why we are so pretty, dress so finely, are hot catches, and yet seem to not be bringing a netful of catch home with us at the end of each day).
So that morning of the 6th, Xandra father and I are in the kitchen organizing our various breakfasts, when he voices out his thought to call Tutu up to wish her a happy birthday (good! He remembered - thanks to the mother, no doubt), and also quiz her as to why she is yet to marry (not-so-good). I councelled him to let the message rest at the happy birthday bit, after all, she already has to deal with the drama of turning 38, listening to to continual ticking of her biological clock, further amplified by the fact that dozens of people are getting in touch to wish her a happy birthday. Quite frankly, I find it highly inconsiderate when people ask me why she isn't married. Firstly, how on earth should I know? I'm hardly privy to her relationship, am I? Secondly, perhaps its simply because Mr. Boyfriend has not proposed/isn't ready to commit/is waiting on divine inspiration/or something to force his hand? Thirdly, she's friggin hitting forty, of COURSE she would like to settle down and move on with her life! How's about you ask her?
At least, my dad was asking her, not me. But we must be considerate to her as well. That discussion of course quickly moved on to the expected - Do I have a boyfriend yet? (Xandra had had the good fortune of being forced into this dicussion the previous afternoon, so she was chiefly spectator here, with a few eye-rolls tossed in for effect).
Lord, please, this year still has so much of it to come. Even if its December ending, nothing is too late for you. Please let someone good in Your sight happen to my sisters, epecially Tutu. Mostly for thier sake and happiness, but also that my parents will rest. And I can have to small wedding I dream of, as opposed to some grand affair, which is the fate of whichever of us is the first to jump the broom.
Amen.
Watched Bounty Hunter with Emmanuel last night. The movie was good, and Emmanuel was good company. I'm mostly thankful that so far, we only get to watch movies together, and in a theatre at that. Else, how would I handle his continuous staring, repetitive declarations, poor proposals (someday, I'm actually going to say yes to one of these guys, just to get a response), and the awkward moments in between that come up - this time, my underwire (or what is at that location, seeing as the bra I was wearing was underwireless) cutting into my side, and having to adjust that with him sitting on that side of me, and the ensuing explanation and comment.
Oy.
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