I know there is a God, and I know He exists because - other than my deep rooted beliefs - God loves to laugh. More specifically God loves to laugh at me. I can just see Him doubled over with laughter with tears pouring down his face, while he watches what is happening in my life.

It all began 21 years ago when God created this beautiful and perfect child. He looked at this laughing, smiling face and said “Perfect!” If only this perfect meant I was a perfect creation, but no, it meant I was perfectly created to laugh at. I was perfect for watching like Saturday Nite Live or Joaquin Phoenix trying to rap. So he searched the whole world over looking for the perfect family. He saw June Cleaver and thought "no, she is to much of a home maker". He saw Sharon stone and thought "no, too anti Me". He then looked at Octomom and thought "definitely no, she would never even find herself in the crowd". Then, He came across a man and woman who lived in a small suburban city in Mississippi. “Ah! Perfect!” he thought. Here she will live a life worthy of any reality TV show to rival that of “The Hills.”

And so I live with my father, the interrogator of all things done in my life, and my mother, the instigator of all trouble in my life. Nothing is as bad as when my mother gets on the man hunt bandwagon. I am 21 years old! I am still a baby who can barely take care of herself. I still become overwhelmed with the responsibility of dressing myself in the morning. Right shoe on left foot or is it left shoe on right foot? How do you tie your laces again? “Look at the bunny ears, now go over and under and loop it around and…and…oh shoot I forgot the rest, now I have to start over. I’ll never get these things tied.” That’s my morning routine just for my shoes, You can imagine my stress in dressing the rest of me.

We all understand the difficulty and responsibility in caring for ourselves. Yet, she wants me to marry a man and have children. She never fails to remind me of this at the worst of times.

A couple of weeks ago we were at my 80 year old great grandmother’s birthday party at a nursing home. It was a huge family reunion; even my Uncle Dick, who is not blood related, flew in for her birthday. One of my cousins had a child and I was holding the baby and playing with her. My mom noticed I was holding the baby and threw her hand in the air to make an announcement.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Oh no, announcements are never good unless you are Obama.

“I would like everyone to take a picture of my daughter holding a baby. This will be the only time we will ever see her holding a baby.” Oh no, I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. What do I do? Do I laugh? Should I hide under the table? Maybe I should just go check myself into the nursing home. Hopefully this will be the end of her speech.

“My daughter will never get married.” Is she trying to embarrass me into a marriage???

“Are there any available men here?” Things just went from bad to worse. Did she seriously just ask if there were any available men at a family reunion???? I thought we lived in Mississippi not Arkansas. Forget checking myself into a nursing home? I’ll just set up funeral arrangements.

An aunt came up to me and said, “Oh, I know a young man that will be perfect for you. He is 22 though.”

“Oh, really," I try to say in my most disappointed voice, "He is much too old for me.” I hope she won’t realize I am 21 years old.

“Yeah, he is a mortician.”

Needless to say, I was mortified about the whole situation.