My father was an angry man. I never understood what made him angry, but I did manage to pick up on it. As a result, I entered adulthood with my own anger issues and ill-equipped to know how to deal with them. For a long time, I didn’t.

For years, I avoided the “L” word, the “M” word, and the “C” word – Love, Marriage, and Children. They may have been okay for others, but not for me. I had other things to do.

I’m not sure what motivated me, except fear. I rationalized my bitterness, putting up a front that I was perfectly content living alone, being alone, staying alone. Truth is, I was lonely, bitter, and destined to stay that way. Then one day, I decided to make a change. I began to look for a wife.

My mother and I have the traditional Hollywood mother-daughter relationship. My mother is the antagonist and I am the baby cub that simply falls in line. Sometimes I try to prove my womanhood but it really doesn’t make a difference. She will always see me as a four year old with a frog in my pocket.

My encounter with my mom involves her telling me what to do and her missile launching several random questions at me all at once. And, she will not, even if she is eating, allow me to get a word in.

She says things like: Do you have an iron? Have you gained any weight? Did you ever return that library book? Did you lock your door? When are you going to start getting allergy shots again? Does your seatbelt work? Please do not speak to strangers or pick up hitch hikers. And, please do not accept emails from strange people asking you for money online.