Susie is a Cousin, Not a Role-Model

In contrast to Billy Black-Ops' ascetically solitary predicament, my litany of Billys who have actually registered on the Real Relationship Scale, i.e., have met the parents, is getting to be a problem.

Apparently.

(The following was related to me by a close-in-age cousin/partner-in-crime who was present for the conversation in question, presumably as a fly on the wall silently *dying* of the sinus-pressure from unreleased cackles of Schadenfreudeian glee):

***

I have a slew of cousins, ranging from a few years to a decade and a half younger than me, nearly all of them female (fuck yeah, Solo XX chromosomes!). And the Solo family, through 4 generations now, is a tight one, which practices full-on yearly reunions full of whiskey (our very own tiny silverback-ette, Grandma Solo, is generally the one calling for cocktails to begin at an early hour) and guitar singalongs and cookouts and day-hikes and drunken toasts and one-million-decibel card games and overwhelmingly matriarchal rule-via-snark-and/or-stern-looks (and, of course, your run-of-the-mill doses of sibling rivalry, couples-drama, general good-natured rumor-mongering, drama-queening, and forgive-and-forget-about-it-the-next-day-ing). Overall, it's a kickass family to belong to and has made me the lady SUSIE I am today.

(Being at the helm of the Solo family is a full-time job, amirite Grandma?)

Recently, Grandma Solo raised her Solo scepter of infallibility, with which she usually just beats Grandpa Solo into perpetual silence, and forged ahead with arrangements for this year's gathering at a posh campus-type locale in the woods, where we Solos could overrun an entire dormitory-style remote lodge and surrounding grounds, unfettered by outsiders or neighbors or police involvement.

Which was awesome.

The less-than-awesome angle of this orchestration was that Grandma Solo had also seen fit to parse out sleeping arrangements exactly as she personally desired, with zero input from any other attendees, and for one of my younger cousins (think over-18, under-25 - we'll call her "Sally"), these bunk assignments were glaringly absent any inclusion of her boyfriend of over a year. In fact, this guy had been to last year's Solo soiree (and survived!), but was somehow omitted from this year's roster.

Naturally, one of my aunts (we'll call her Jane) intervened on Sally's behalf. But Grandma Solo was resolute, shaking her head no, that really, Jane, no Billys need be brought along this time around. This time, we were going Full-Solo, no plus-ones. Which was ridiculous, as Jane's son - my one male cousin - had a new-ish girlfriend who was to be in attendance, and as in all past Solo Assemblies, significant others have been welcomed (because every gauntlet needs its runners).

Astutely, my aunt pointed out that - presumably using me as an example because, aside from my long-married sister, I am the eldest of my generation - "Susie's brought boyfriends for years, mom. There's no reason why Sally's boyfriend can't be there."

(Grandpa Solo in the sitting room, any given day.)

And before anyone saw it coming, Grandpa Solo, cowed as usual in his TV-watching corner of the room with his hearing aids turned off so that he wouldn't have to hear Grandma Solo kvetching at him or otherwise participate in pesky household conversations, suddenly chimed in:

"Oh come on, Jane! That's the point! I mean, you don't want Sally to turn into the next SUSIE!"

This is why we like our Solo men to fucking. Keep. Quiet.

(Next year, both my boyfriends will be in attendance, as pictured.)