Escalator to Hell

I've just been informed that I'm on an express escalator to Hell. I guess I'll stop and get some cute red shoes along the way--gotta match the devil you know. *sigh*, the sarcasm.

I, like most other people, have the set of "that" family. The ones people don't really mess with because they're all certifiably crazy and that you can't really bring to many social functions because you know they'll embarass themselves and you.

My great aunt, she is one of them. My mom called and told her about the engagement (or pending engagement, however you want to look at it) and she was none too pleased about the news. Auntie Sharlese, who is close to elderly but far far from senile called me last night to vent her feelings about it.

Auntie: "Child. Child. Child. You know you gon' go to see Satan cuz this, right?"

Me: "Why Auntie?"

Auntie: "You aint posed to let no man axe you to marry him like that."

Me: "Why? I thought that was tradition."

Auntie: "A woman don't lay back and wait for no man to axe her questions like that. You posed to go get what you want. You weak child, you weak. You ain't gon' be no good wife. God don't like Ugly, and He don't like weak neither."

Me: "In what Bible does it say this?"

Auntie: "Don't question me."

Me: "Auntie, it's been nice talking to you, I have to go to bed."


I know there is no reasoning with her. Gotta love the fam!