The Trailor Park Prince  − 24 March, 2008

After the drunken and dillusional rage that was my stepfather, Jacob would appear as quite the gentleman. But the terrible truth of it is, that despite the fact that he is good to my mother, and my youngest brother loves him, I cannot stand my mother's boyfriend.

He is a simple man, the type that spends their entire lives sheltered in their own backwards and fractured views of the real world. Until he moved in with my mother, he lived with his own, in a trailor park. I suppose I should mention that this man is a year and a half older than I am. My mom is forty years old, and seven months pregnant with his child, whom they, not without the affection that I can't seem to summon, call Jacoby.

"It's a form of Jacob," she says, and I breathlessly remind her that she already has a son named Jacob. But there's no arguing with it. There are already blankets and picture frames with the name on it. So I resign myself to simply calling the boy by his middle name.

Before my mom concieved, I was having a conversation with her about Jacob. She admitted that he was only a temporary thing. It was nice to have someone around that didn't hit her and make her feel like shit all the time. I agreed with this, and I didn't mind Jacob hanging around, mostly because I was assured that he would be gone soon enough.

Now, they're getting married, and every particle in me is riling against it. Naturally, she wants me to attend, but I can't help but feel bitter about this.

"I already went to your first one. That was the important one." 

Jacob was sitting next to her when I said this.

I make no effort to hide my disdain for his ignorance and simplemindedness. Offhanded remarks slip from my lips before I am able to catch them, and again and again my mother reprimands me for being "ugly". This is a colloquialism that makes my skin crawl. 

I simply don't feel that this man, who wears his stringy hair shoulder lenth and who's face is often covered in a layer of haphazardly growing facial hair, is good enough for my mother. I never will. But I somehow must learn to live with this, if mine and my mother's relationship is to survive. 

Comments:

Rebeca (April 9, 2008. 11:40am)

Have you asked her why did she change her mind? It's sad how we can't always convince the people we love to re-consider some situations, but maybe she has a good reason for staying with this guy?