Oh, and my name is Mary Ellen
What good fortune! A work trip to CT earlier this week just happened to coincide with the occasion of my eldest niece's high school graduation. Serendipity! Thank you gods of fate! (And, to my old friend who shakes his head like St. Francis and says, "You're always conniving..." I say, "Pah!")
Anyhoo, Sarah looked beautiful, as always. The valedictorian speech was amusing -- "I am a nerd," he said. "But we all bring something different to the table, even within these assigned labels. The football players, for example, have... different names, I think." The principal was deadly boring. The graduate who just had a baby was enviably thin. The Panera veggie sandwiches were excellent!
Aaandd...we met Sarah's new "friend," named Fabian.
"Damien, nice to meet you!" booms my father. "It's Fabian," I say. "Fabian? Faaaa-bian?" "Christ! Yes! Fabian!" "I thought it was Famien," Mollie says. "You know, like Damien? But with an F?" "I have never even heard of that name. It's Fabian." "I think he's gay," Sharon whispers, "his name is Fabian and he has two earrings." "Sharon!" my mother hisses. "Famien is not gay," Mollie says outraged. Meanwhile, my sister Kathy calls him Fabio and says, "I'm sure they're just friends anyway." "Ha!" I say.
But we agree on this: He is nice. He saved us seats! And his father owns a chocolate factory in New Hampshire. We love chocolate! On the stroll back from the ceremony, we practice again: It's Fabian, Dad. "Like the singer," he nods. "Fabian," he repeats. "Fabian," Mollie agrees. Okay. Bye Sarah! Bye Fabian! Hugs, hugs. My father shakes his hand warmly. "Damien! Great to meet you!"
Aaaargh!
Later, David calls. We met Sarah's boyfriend, I tell him. He's Swiss and his name is Fabian. "Oh," he says. "That's actually 'Fah-bien.'"
Anyhoo, Sarah looked beautiful, as always. The valedictorian speech was amusing -- "I am a nerd," he said. "But we all bring something different to the table, even within these assigned labels. The football players, for example, have... different names, I think." The principal was deadly boring. The graduate who just had a baby was enviably thin. The Panera veggie sandwiches were excellent!
Aaandd...we met Sarah's new "friend," named Fabian.
"Damien, nice to meet you!" booms my father. "It's Fabian," I say. "Fabian? Faaaa-bian?" "Christ! Yes! Fabian!" "I thought it was Famien," Mollie says. "You know, like Damien? But with an F?" "I have never even heard of that name. It's Fabian." "I think he's gay," Sharon whispers, "his name is Fabian and he has two earrings." "Sharon!" my mother hisses. "Famien is not gay," Mollie says outraged. Meanwhile, my sister Kathy calls him Fabio and says, "I'm sure they're just friends anyway." "Ha!" I say.
But we agree on this: He is nice. He saved us seats! And his father owns a chocolate factory in New Hampshire. We love chocolate! On the stroll back from the ceremony, we practice again: It's Fabian, Dad. "Like the singer," he nods. "Fabian," he repeats. "Fabian," Mollie agrees. Okay. Bye Sarah! Bye Fabian! Hugs, hugs. My father shakes his hand warmly. "Damien! Great to meet you!"
Aaaargh!
Later, David calls. We met Sarah's boyfriend, I tell him. He's Swiss and his name is Fabian. "Oh," he says. "That's actually 'Fah-bien.'"
posted by Mary Ellen at
6:55 PM
3 Comments:
This is in my top ten favorite posts of yours--HI-larious!!!
Loved the dad part; and the valedictorian's remark about the football players!
I, too, went to a high school graduation last weekend for one of my nieces. It was just great to see so many young people enthusiastic about their lives. But we did not have any Fabiens!
Jane
If he's swiss, he's European, not Gay. A very popular guessing game for us single gals in DC.
Did he bring chocolate?
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