I'm just a phoney step-dad

The question of marriage comes up. I give a smart ass reply. It’s just a habit. Personal question – smart ass reply. Try it, you’ll see.

Saturday I received a phone call, I had just finished snow throwing the parking lot, driveway and sidewalk, I was on my back, on the bed, legs hanging over the edge, thinking of how I was going to waste the rest of my day. Most pressing was getting my damp clothes off, damp with sweat and snow. The phone call was from Lady G, Little g ate something and was having an allergic reaction, Lady G had to be in work soon, the plan – I take Little g to the emergency room.

The only symptom Little g was showing was a case of the hives which I didn’t know at the time. I’ve never actually seen hives before. If things were more serious Lady G would take her daughter herself but my lady is short on days she can take off, so that is where I came in.

We met at Lady G’s house, which is 15 minutes from my own and among other things I’m told “If anybody asks, you’re her step-dad.” Lady G lives three minutes from the nearest emergency room.

At registration, I’m asked “Relation?”

“Step-dad”

“Address?”

So, I blew the address question and started to give my own address but on the second try I did give Little g’s address.

Unfortunately, the questions got harder.

Little g was prescribed Benadryl and given a dose at the hospital. I got the prescription filled, gave Little g a second dose at the prescribed time and waited for Lady G to get home.

So, here’s the deal. Lady G and I depend on each other, we act like we have been married for quite some time. The reason I’m not married to her is because I’m not certain her love for me is greater than how irritating I can be at times.

I remember riding the Metro in Paris, I did something that pissed her off a bit and she nagged me a bit so we rode to the Eiffel Tower mostly in silence. We were on speaking terms when we got to the tower and I forget how many stops we rode but it was too many to be pissed off …in Paris …of all places.

Too many times I have to remind myself that I love her more than I love myself. I should not need reminding but sometimes my pride will forget.

Whenever I hear her say she loves me, I think “yeah, today” and wonder whether if tomorrow it will be the same, no matter how many yesterdays I’ve heard her say it.

So for now I’m just the phony step-dad to her daughter.