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Indian Party and the White Girl


We went to a family party over the weekend. It’s difficult going to an Indian-focused party with my white wife. My family, like many people in general, is rather clique-ish and keeps to themselves at an event. Sure, the general “hello” and answers to the frequent “how’s married life treatin’ ya?” conversation takes place but after that you’re on your own if you don’t often hang out with these people. But you can expect that at a party where the music is loud and the mingling is limited, so I had to juggle a bored wife and the idea that my family doesn’t like white people.

Luckily Grandma came to save the day. She asked Mrs. Brownman if we were going to her house for a religious function next week. Mrs. B answered no and yet still got a face rub, slight pinch on the arm, and smile from Grandma. Little reassurances like that help hint to me and wifey that the marriage is in fact, accepted.

The other indicator is my father who constantly forces shots to Mrs. B who even on medication refuses to say “no thanks” to him more than 3 times.

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