I didn’t make up the word “Holidaze” but after the week I have had, I am not feeling very clever. I understand that every couple who has ever coupled has the following holiday debate: Whose Aunt Suzy makes a better stuffing? It doesn’t have to be about stuffing necessarily or even an aunt named Suzy, but the fact is, there is a constant and universal conundrum that hits couples at the holidays and that is put simply, where do we go?

In our case, the answer was EVERYWHERE. Now, Aaron and I are lucky in two ways: 1) We are both from Ohio and 2) My family doesn’t have a Christmas tradition, being Jewish and all (does this get mentioned enough in this blog?). It worked out this year that the first night of Hanukkah fell on a Sunday and Christmas Eve on a Wednesday. So on Saturday we packed up the dog, the friend going home to Ohio for Christmas, and the Jetta (to within an inch of its already fragile life) and hit the road. After a New York City blizzard on Friday, Aaron had us dug out by 7 AM and with cups of steaming coffee in hand, we drove. At some point, while wedged between a giant bag of gifts and furry monkey-dog the friend asked us casually what we thought about getting married. We blushed and deferred to each other, then mentioned how cute the dog was nibbling on her scarf by way of a subject change.

Ten hours and a lot of fighting over whether it is faster to drive to Cleveland or Columbus later, we arrived in Columbus an hour and a half later than we would have arrived in Cleveland. (Fine. But I was right about the cows…) We saw my sister and her three week old twins and didn’t eat them because we wanted to continue to want to eat them for the next ten-twenty years. My sister, never one to mince her words asked if we’d like her to save the The Who onesies we bought the kids for our kids. We said in unison, “What kids?” Then we repeated how much we loved our new dust buster. “It really picks up dog hair!” we said effusively as the subject turned.

By Wednesday we had been interrogated on our marriage plans by my mother, two family friends, the guy who walks my mother’s dogs and the lady at Block’s bagels. When we got to Cleveland I think both of us were a little worried the other was going to pull out a ring for Christmas simply because some dude at a diamond store had forced them to take it.

A lovely blouse, necklace and pocket knife for me and Aaron’s spankin’ new Granny Wheelchair Racetrack were excellent (and more appropriate) substitutes for a pressured engagement. But, the test began anew at Christmas dinner. “What do you think of marriage?” “How long have you lived together now?” (That question is special because it comes with a little glint in the eye of the asker.)  “Do you guys think you’ll have kids one day?” And on.

The thing about family is that they ask because they can. And they want to know. Will their family be expanding any time soon? In the event that it is their ass that is expanding, perhaps they are wondering if they should slim down in time for a June wedding.

Aaron and I spent the drive home talking about our views on marriage and how we saw our future together, so the questions weren’t completely pointless. It is good for us to continue to talk and survey our relationship as it stands. By the end of the drive we both felt as secure as ever that while we are not married or engaged, but living together seriously and respectfully things are, for us both exactly as they should be. As we ate our last road trip Whopper, we drove into the sunset, holding hands.