I'm completely out of the closet to my mom's side of the family, and they all know and love Drew -- even the bigoted cousins. My dad's side, however, is a different story.

Dad and Grandma, the only two left since Grandpa and Aunt Cindy passed, are very Christian. Baptist. Grandma, especially, believes in Satan and has been known to lecture her grandchildren on their susceptibility to his cunning ways. So... I'm not going to be sharing the whole "cocksucking" side of myself with them any time soon.

Nonetheless, Drew agreed to join me and my two sisters, my brother-in-law and my niece and nephew as we took on our most dreaded holiday tradition: Christmas night at Dad's house.

Last year he wouldn't turn the lights on. He claimed they weren't working, but when Aimee and I found my Aunt Cindy (who died a few months later) in a back bedroom Cindy laughed and said "These people are crazy!" She said he was refusing to turn the lights on -- some strange control issue mixed with a miser's paranoia about being overcharged for the electricity, I'm sure.

This year, strangely, he was doing really well. He had gained some weight. He wasn't talking in his breathy, childlike voice that creeps us all out. Grandma still gave out some strange gifts (my nephew Tony got a potholder and a little mini apron meant to adorn and conceal a detergent bottle). But Dad was definitely different.

I introduced Drew as my "friend". He was worried in the car ride about being questioned extensively but I rightly predicted that my dad and grandma wouldn't probe that deeply.

In the car afterwards Drew actually said "you get your looks from your dad." A comment which I still haven't acknowledged. And he said that my stepdad is far crazier -- which I have to agree might actually be true.