Previous instalment here: https://redd.it/18kyp69
The very worst Christmas of my life also happened to be my very first as Amy’s husband. Before I get into the gory details of that awful night, I first need to set the stage for you.
Amy and I had tied the knot in mid-October, so by the time Christmas rolled around, we had only been married a little over two months. And yet Maura was already putting the pressure on us to hurry up and have a child. As far as she was concerned, Amy should have gotten pregnant the first night of our honeymoon. She was royally pissed when we told her that we were nowhere near ready for kids yet. Like, how dare we decide not to start our family while we were still getting used to our new lives as husband and wife? Who were we to make such a decision?
Naturally, this created a lot of tension between Maura and Amy. It didn’t help that Amy was already still pissed off at Maura over how she had behaved at our wedding. The bitch had shown up in a white dress, interrupted our vows with a fake coughing fit, and, at the reception, gave an impromptu speech where she basically passive-aggressively compared me to Amy’s ex-boyfriend. Being Maura, she honestly didn’t see why what she’d done was wrong or why Amy was so upset over it.
All this seemed the perfect recipe for a disastrous Christmas, one that Amy and I were only attending because Maura would never let us hear the end of it if we didn’t. We were bracing ourselves for a shitty night devoid of any real holiday cheer. But neither of us could have imagined what Maura had planned.
We had barely walked in the door when Maura ambushed us, dragged us into the hall, and began interrogating us about our sex life. Apparently, she had decided that inadequacies in the bedroom were the reason Amy still wasn’t pregnant, and figured we could use her advice.
Amy told her mother that we would not be discussing something so private with her, nor would we be having a baby just because she wanted us too. She had no say in the matter, and she needed to drop it. Now.
Maura told Amy that she was getting old, that it wouldn’t be long before her “ovaries shrivelled up like prunes” and she was rendered infertile.
Amy reminded Maura that she was only thirty years old; there was plenty of time for her to get pregnant.
Maura told Amy that she was already a mother of three by that age.
Amy told Maura that things were different these days, that women were waiting longer to have kids.
Maura told Amy that she just because some women were waiting to have kids didn’t mean she had to.
I could see that Amy was on the verge of losing her shit, so I cut in and told Maura that this conversation was closed, and that if she tried to start it up again, Amy and I would leave.
Maura stomped off to the kitchen, and Amy and I could hear her whining to David about how rude we were being. We headed to the living room, where the rest of the family was already gathered, sipping eggnog and pretending they hadn’t been overheard the fight.
Maura appeared a minute later with eggnog for Amy and I, smiling with only her mouth. I took a sip and noted that it tasted funny. But Maura’s legendary culinary incompetence extended even to beverages, so I really wasn’t surprised.
An hour later, we were all called into the dining room for Christmas dinner. Maura had cooked ham, roast potatoes, and green beans, all of it barely edible. All throughout the meal, she kept making passive-aggressive comments like, “Christmas would be so much livelier if only there were some children in the family!” or “At church last Sunday, Karen kept bragging about how cute her new granddaughter is. I can’t wait to tell her how my granddaughter is even cuter.” Pause. Then: “Oh, wait, I don’t have a granddaughter!” Cue eye daggers at Amy and I. My wife was gripping her knife and fork so hard her fingers were white, and I was seriously contemplating dumping my wine over Maura’s head.
Finally, after rounding out the meal with pumpkin pie, we all returned to the living room for the exchanging of gifts.
Now, when it comes to presents, Maura doesn’t really take into consideration important things like a person’s interests and lifestyle. Usually, the gifts she gives are things that she herself would want, or things that suit the person she wants you to be rather than who you really are. She would always give Lily things like dolls and frilly pink dresses, even though Lily’s a tomboy who doesn’t care much for those things. She’s also a fan of passive-aggressive gifts, using them as a tool to attack and humiliate others.
That year, Ella got a book about meal planning for those trying to lose weight (Maura thought she was getting fat. She wasn’t), while her new boyfriend (and future husband), a Black man, got some skin-lightening cream. Jane got a fancy hair-dyeing kit (“You don’t pull off the grey look all that well, honey”), while Amy got some fancy lingerie (“That bra will make you look like you actually have breasts!”). And me?
I tore away the wrapping paper and was perplexed to find a tall mason jar filled with some milky white substance.
“What is this?” I asked.
Maura smiled. “Goat semen!”
I sputtered. “Goat semen?”
She giggled. “Yes, dear! You mix a spoonful of it into your morning coffee every morning. It will help increase your sperm production. You’ll finally get my daughter pregnant, and I’ll finally have a grandchild!”
Disgusted, I shoved the jar away hard. It skidded across the coffee table, nearly toppling over the edge.
Amy leaped up. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Mum? That’s fucking disgusting!”
She just laughed again. “Don’t be silly, Amy. I know Vincent loves it. After all, he’s been drinking it all night.”
In agonizing slow-mo, my eyes drifted down to my mug of eggnog. Remembered the funny taste. A sound like the roar of ocean waves filled my skull as the horrible realization sunk its claws in. I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak, just made a sound like uuuggghh.
It was Cameron who finally spoke, his voice a hushed, mortified whisper unlike anything I’d ever heard from him.
“Mum, you sick, twisted bitch.”
And so the night ended with me puking in the powder room while Amy chased Maura around the living room with the fireplace poker and Cameron made some calls and arranged for someone to come deal with the goat in the shed, from which Maura had been harvesting semen in the hopes that making me drink it would finally grant her a grandchild.