Every woman needs at least one “official” gay guy friend.  This is the man who will go shopping with you, give you advice on your hair, listen to you tell every single detail of a story, and basically do everything you secretly want your husband to do, but you don’t ever need to have sex with him.  I encourage all women to develop a friendship with at least one gay guy.  It may help to build up a collection of several gay friends,  as I discovered when I had to fire the only official gay friend I had.  This was several years ago, but here is the letter I was forced to write to him.

Dear <name changed to protect Jarrod>,

As you know, my son Gary is getting married in two months.  And I have agreed to host this wedding at my house.  And cater it.  And have my soon to be daughter-in-law and the maid of honor stay over the night before the wedding and get ready in our master bedroom.  And last time I checked, I was also working full time.

Last night, my son called me. My own flesh and blood, the 9 pound watermelon I gave birth to, actually said, “Mom, we need to talk.  I want to make it clear that this is my wedding, not yours.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gary.”

“Mom, you are taking over the wedding.  Especially the food.  I do not want food I can’t pronounce served at this wedding.  I like simple food Mom, good simple food.”

“Gary, that email I sent with the different hors d’oeuvre ideas was just a suggestion.”

“Mom, listen to me.  DO NOT go all Martha Stewart on me.  I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay.  I’ll try to involve mayonnaise in as many dishes as possible, okay?”

“Fine.  Now another thing.  This is a small wedding mom.  SMALL.  And personal for me and Geneva.  You can tell your friends to cancel their flights right now.”

“Dammit Gary.”

“Mom!”

“Fine, fine.  I’ll tell them to cancel.  But I’ve got to have Jarrod, Maggie, Ellen and…”

“Mom, calm down.  I know you need your posse with you.  That’s fine.  Just get a grip, okay?”

And so Jarrod, I write this letter to you having gotten a “grip” on myself.  Through no help from you, I might add.

I thought to myself, “Gee, I still don’t have anything to wear, and I’m the mother of the groom.”  And of course, it would be natural for me to turn to you, my best gay friend for help in this area.  But unfortunately, you hate to shop.

Then I thought, “Well, I definitely need to do something with my hair.”  But I can’t ask you for help with that because you don’t know the first thing about fixing hair.

Dancing with my son at his wedding.

Then I thought, “I have to completely change the wedding menu now that Gary’s given me a stern talking to.”  And as you well know, you hate to cook.  I’m not sure you can even boil water.  In fact, the last time you invited me over for dinner, I ended up cooking the dinner for 6 people at your house.

And so, Jarrod, it has become painfully obvious that you are completely worthless to me as an official gay friend.  So I’m firing you.  I will continue to consider you one of my dearest, most loved, best friends until the day I die.  But I am definitely going to have to go recruit someone else to take the official gay friend status.  I hope you understand.

Love, Kelly

P.S.  DO NOT be late for the wedding or I’ll kill you.

As a footnote, I will tell you that the wedding was perfect.  The food was wonderful, my daughter-in-law was beautiful, my son was happy, and I was able to share the day with the group of people who are most important to me in my life, of which Jarrod was (and still is) a member.

Categories: Family, Observations