The Freudian Boyfriend Slip

Denial's not only a river in Egypt. The currents are obviously running quite swift over here - and my mother's knee-deep in it.

You remember my pitiful attempts to come out to my mother? Lately I have been vacillating between telling her outright and letting her figure it out with visual / verbal cues. Even my taciturn brother has grown disgusted seeing my amateurish fumbles when the subject crops up. Rather than watch frustrated from the sidelines, my brother - and sister-in-law - have decided to take a more pro-active role in outing me instead.


Paul : My brother said he's gonna help.
Calvin : Uhh... how?
Paul : No idea. Just smile and nod.
Hence the surprising turn of conversation last night during dinner. Don't ask me how they managed to steer the conversation that way.

Brother : Paul does walk pretty fast. How do you catch up?
Sis-in-law : Certainly tough having a boyfriend like that.
Calvin : Certainly is.
Mother : Definitely.
Paul : Hmm.

It was definitely not whispered sotto voce.

Hell, it was loud enough to carry to the next table. For a momentous second the word boyfriend hung in the air like the proverbial pink elephant. With blinking neon lights. Even the usually unwitting Charming Calvin looked as if he'd been clobbered with a sledgehammer.

Yet my seemingly obtuse mother carried on as if nothing had happened.

So what will my brother do then? Who knows. Maybe they'll make colourful banners next.