Claude Onions had never been good at meeting his girlfriend’s parents. He had a history of buckling under pressure, often making bizarre decisions when stressed—a trait his friends never let him forget.
But Claude was now a mature man in his late 20s. He had a steady job in software sales, a condo in downtown San Diego, a 401(k), and a bit of therapy under his belt. Things had been going well for Claude. He was happy. Probably.
Then, about a month ago, he met an incredible woman named Sarah.
They shared a meet-cute in the elevator at work, and things were moving fast. Sarah was beautiful, smart, and laughed at all of Claude’s dumb jokes. He was punching above his weight, and he knew it. Claude couldn't stop gushing about her and tried to see her every chance he got; it was intoxicating.
In fact, last weekend, after karaoke, Claude ducked into the bathroom and called Sarah to profess his love. Fresh off nailing a power ballad and swept up in the grandiosity of romance, Claude declared he must meet her father—to ask for her hand in marriage. Sarah was ecstatic.
So, there they were, days later, on a flight to Connecticut. His friends had tried to talk him out of it, but to no avail. Claude felt confident. It was noble, but foolhardy.
Because as soon as the plane landed, reality began to creep in. By the time they reached Hertz, Claude was in a full-blown, silent meltdown. He’d only known Sarah for a month. Marriage? Had he lost his mind? His parents divorced when he was two. What did he know about love? Did he even want to get married? He watched Sarah open her phone and, for the first time, noticed her inbox.
“4,893 unread emails?” Claude asked nervously.
“Yeah, I skim past the junk,” Sarah smiled sweetly. My God, he thought. What else don’t I know about this woman?
Sarah then dropped bits of info that Claude wished he’d known back in San Diego. Her father, Dale, was a retired prison warden who still woke the house with night terrors, while her mother, Eileen, was getting a master’s in past life regression.
“She will ask you about your childhood trauma,” Sarah said. “Just tell her no.”
Claude was still processing this as they pulled up in front of what could only be described as a Town & Country mansion. Dale and Eileen came out waving. She in a flowing kaftan, he with the posture of a man still giving orders. Claude suddenly felt undressed, both in wardrobe and life decisions.
But to their credit, they welcomed Claude with open arms—getting to know him over chilled Sancerre and some easy laughs. Dale put steaks on the BBQ, and Eileen invited him to chop vegetables. They shared another glass. And another. Things were going great. Her family was lovely. Maybe it’d work out for ol' Claude.
But, at a certain point—four and a half wines to be exact—it dawned on Claude that he was drunk. This made sense, given he hadn’t eaten all day. Unsure of how to handle this, he leaned over to Sarah…
“Babe, you guys have any nuts or hummus? Something to bridge the gap before dinner?” Claude whispered, casual enough for Sarah to miss the cry for help. She giggled and told him to check in with Dale.
But as Claude stood up, he found himself swaying. He was relieved when Sarah and Eileen left the room to set the table. With the coast clear, Claude sprang into action. He ran to the pantry and found a near-empty box of Cheez-Its. He shoved a handful into his mouth. They were delicious. He tipped the rest back, shaking the silver bag for crumbs.
As Claude swallowed, he realized he’d finished the box. It wasn’t a huge deal, but it was definitely something he started to feel uncomfortable about.
He looked around for the trash, but then—in a fit of bad judgement—darted to the sink. Claude proceeded to fill up the empty cracker bag with water, as if this somehow made sense. Why? He had no idea, but his limbs kept moving. Maybe he thought it would erase the evidence. Maybe—more likely—it was just panic. Either way, he was baptizing a Cheez-Its bag, and it was too late to stop now. He shoved the sodden box back into the cupboard just as Dale walked in.
As the group sat down to eat, Claude was visibly unwell. Dale asked if he was okay, to which Claude replied that eating meat made him sweat. Claude smiled through Sarah’s confusion. He didn’t know when her family would reach for the Cheez-Its bag, but he hoped it would be years from now.
Regrettably, it wasn’t.
As the group got up from dinner, they headed to the kitchen to find water seeping from the pantry. The bottom of the box had disintegrated, causing the bag to fall out when Dale picked it up.
Claude’s first reaction was to blame it on Sarah. When that didn’t land, Claude ran out the front door. Dale chased him down, which given he was a retired prison warden was quick.
Her family was puzzled as to why finishing a box of crackers was worth fussing over, and how filling the bag with water followed any logic. Claude continued to self-implode, coming clean to Dale that he hadn’t filed taxes in five years and overall wasn’t ready to start a family.
Claude left Connecticut alone. His brief romance with Sarah was indeed a pipe dream, one his friends never let him live down.
He remained single for the next decade, until he crossed paths with Gale, a gentle woman with a severe stutter. Remarkably, their quirks balanced each other out, and together they managed what Claude once thought impossible: happily ever after.
Happy Labor Day, friends! 🎉🇺🇸
Natalie, you are an awesome writer and so incredibly talented! It looks like you've found your passion in writing and offering people the opportunity for 'belly laughter' and decreased anxiety and worry. Keep up with your great gift and sharing yourself with other people! Blessings to you, Terrell
AMAZING.