Studly has been having knee problems and had to have surgery to remove a cyst. Sexy. I took care of him after the surgery and physically held him down a few times when he tried to sneak out of my house. He’s an active person and hates sitting around. I’m a fatass who loves TV. Not sure how we get along, but it’s working so far.

I’ve met his family and see him mom fairly often; he lives with his mom since renting his own place when he’s off traveling all of the time is a waste of money. He’s met my mother twice (not that I blame him for avoiding her like the plague). While Studly was recovering from surgery at my house my mom decided to hold an informal dinner party and invited us. Since Studly can’t drive and is completely dependent on me, he capitulated and agreed to go to dinner.

A few hours before the party I noticed his leg as bleeding a little bit, but we re-bandaged it and the bleeding stopped. He insisted on buying chocolates for the party and nervously tugged on his collar the whole way to Mom’s. It’s cute watching the sacrificial lamb sweat before the lioness rips it apart.

Look how happy he is before seeing my mother. I’d show the “after” picture but it’s gruesome…

Once we were there he started drinking. My mom was sitting right next to him interrogating him about his life plans, family and 401K returns. I usually end up drinking around her too, but decided that I could get through it sober if he needed to knock back a six-pack of beer to put up with her craziness. After a particularly awkward question (so, how many grandchildren am I getting?), Studly asked me where the bathroom was. I gave him directions and went back to small talk and hor d’oeuvres.

We chatted.

And chatted.

And chatted.

And Studly never came back. After over half and hour I began to worry. Maybe the toilet backed up and he was desperately staring at the overflowing water? Or perhaps he had a hemorrhoid flare up and was in agony right now? Maybe he shimmied out the tiny window into the backyard and was trying to escape at this very moment. After all, it’s a dinner with my parents; something is bound to go wrong.

Finally he came out and I couldn’t help but notice that he was limping. At my questioning look he asked where the paper towels and hydrogen peroxide were. Then he pointed to the floor where a noticeable blood stain was soaking into the carpet and my eyes followed the trail of blood leading to the bathroom.

“You cut open your own leg to avoid my mom?” I shouted, eyes wide. “That’s so…ingenious!” Everyone at the table tittered but seriously, I wish I’d thought of it years ago.

“No!” Studly retorted, eyeing the hurt look on my mom’s face. “I think one of my stitches ripped.”

“A likely story.” I muttered, getting up to look at his leg.

When I was within whisper-distance he hissed, “Oh god, I’ve fucked tonight up. I bled all over the bathroom and it took forever to clean. I think I stained the carpet.” He turned a sickly looking green, “Your mom hates me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, if you knew half of the shit that has been on this floor…Harley’s dog actually shit all over this floor. At least we won’t get E.Coli from the bodily fluids you left.” For some reason Studly didn’t think this was funny which is shocking since he had been drinking and I hadn’t.

After forcing him to sit down and elevate his leg, Mom and I started cleaning up. She grabbed my arm to pull me close and muttered, “Where did he get the bandages for his leg?”

“Um, I had some old ones in the medicine cabinet. He said he couldn’t find any under the sink.” Mom barely stifled a shriek.

“He looked under the sink?!”

“That’s what I said.” I answered testily as I scrubbed my boyfriend’s blood off of the floor. I always imagined this moment would only occur after I’d disposed of the body, but I guess life is unpredictable.

Mom grabbed my arm, “We had that leak a few months ago and we never cleaned. There’s mold under there!”

I shrugged. “Mom, calm down. It’s not like the bandages were under the sink. They aren’t moldy.”

“Who cares about that? He’ll think we’re trashy and dirty!”

“He’s more concerned about bleeding to death than he is about a little mold. No one is judging you. And I’d prefer not to become an orphan, so please remove the toxic mold. Thanks.”

“You think he’s judging me!?”

“Great, that’s the message you hear.”

We ended up making it through dinner and everyone was sufficiently charmed by Studly. After I drove us back to my place he collapsed into bed and groaned that he never wanted to do that again. Now he knows how I felt ever since I exited the womb and realized this is my family.

Anytime I talk about my mom to Studly, he asks if I think she hates him for bleeding like some sort of macabre fountain all over her house. Anytime I mention Studly to Mom she asks if he’s mentioned anything about the mold. What kind of fucked up Twilight Zone is this?

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