The Return Of The Grandparents

As  the title suggests, my grandparents visited today. They're the only relatives living in Britain that visit and that we really keep in contact with. But they're from my mum's side and me and my dad aren't that keen on them. Dad, luckily, gets to hide in his man cave, because there aren't enough seats for everyone downstairs, but I have no choice.

Regular questions I get every time they visit usually include whether or not I have a boyfriend yet. I always tell them no, of course not. Happened twice.

Instance number one.
'Who are you texting?'
'My friend.'
'Girl or boy?' Knowing smile.
'Girl. Her name is Sophie. She's a friend.'
'Not a boy?'
'No.'
'No boyfriend?'
Laughter. 'No. God, no. I'm not doing that.'

Instance number two.
Mindless talking '-when I meet with Emmett next week'
'Who's Emmett?'
'Friend in Dorchester.'
'Male friend?'
'Grandad, Emmett is the campest person I know. He's fabulously gay and definately not my type, nor am I his. The only two boys in my life are gay.'

I also mentioned where I plan to get a job, and my bro interjected with 'That's a gay club!' I know it is. It's also a cafe in the day. 'But it's a gay bar!' Yes, it is. I'm aware. In honesty, it's why I'm asking to work there. I feel comfortable around gay people. They don't expect anything of me, I can be myself (not completely of course. Not unless I know them very well) and I find camp people are very calming people to be around.

It's always rather stressful when they visit. Full of things that are expected of me and bloody repeated questions. Everyone was insisting I frame my 'basic first aid' certificate and hang it up. I have nowhere to hang such a thing, and if I did, I would hang up my signed Colin Baker photograph. That's much more important than a certificate. I'm not going into nursing, my partner is, so why would I need to hang it up?

We watched my brother's christening, and I couldn't help but think back to a conversation me and my partner had not days ago about our son, when he is adopted eventually, being christened. Well, more a strong agreement that it will not be happening. Churches go completely about everything we are and love. The idea of going into a church for our son to be christened is disturbing. If the priest knew who I am, what I am, and how strongly we both adore and support the gay community, he'd probably have a fit.
  Although my brother was christened, I wasn't. My grandmother was the one who enforced it anyway, and for some unknown reason, despite him being the most troublesome, he's always been the favourite of hers. She's rather stuck in the old ways, believing women should know there place etc; and through disliking that that applies to me, I can't stand that way of thinking.

I think these two people will be the ones I'll have difficulty convincing that I'm Trans*. After my parents that are apparently convinced it doesn't exist.

Oh, in better news, my partner's friend is training to be a tailor, and offered to make my suit when we get around to our wedding. Awesome!!!