My mother always said that she wished she could do her wedding all over again.  It was a chapter of her life that was meant to be so great, but it wasn't.  And it's because of my grandparents.  

Now, what you're about to read is not as extreme, but it is still something, like my mother, I wished I could do all over again.  And if I did do things differently, I would not have gone down into the living room at all that night.

It started like this:  

It was December 2nd, and that signalled the start of Hannukah this year.  So, Nana and Papa brought their menorah with them so they could celebrate it with us while they visited.  Unfortunately, as Papa was setting it up on the mantelpiece in the living room, Grandma and Grandpa walked in, bright red from the walk to the church they had just been on.  They looked at the menorah and frowned, and Papa, the blunt, loud one, asked, "Do you mind if this goes here, or will it be a problem for you?"

I looked up from my laptop, sensing a fight coming.

"No problem at all, Adam." Grandpa replied, still staring at the menorah.

"We just think that you shouldn't have as much of an influence on Paige as you do." Grandma stated matter-of-factly, "After all, you are kind of pressuring her into choosing a religion by setting up- this." 

Nana retorted in her sweet way, "Well, you thanked the Lord every night at dinner,"

Grandpa coughed uncomfortably.

"Look, we're just trying to practice our religion.  Please don't ruin it for us." Papa told them.

Grandma made a sniffing noise but busied herself with some knitting.  It became silent again until Dad walked into the room.  "Honey," Grandma began (she always called Dad 'Honey', although he is a grown man), "I've become acquainted with the minister here at your local church and he seems like a lovely man."

"Really?  That's nice, Mom." Dad replied, pretending to care.

"Yes, the perfect minister kind," Grandpa echoed.

Dad sat down beside me on the couch and inquired, "What did you all talk about?"

The next words shocked me.  For Grandma answered casually, "Paige."

My ears instantly perked up and I looked up once again from my laptop.  Raising an eyebrow, I questioned, "What about me?"

"Nothing too personal, Paige." Grandpa responded quickly.

"Yes, we were just talking about your future and the choices you have to make fairly soon." Grandma explained.

This time Dad asked, "What kind of choices do you think Paige will be making?"  Nana and Papa looked up from what they were doing too, listening in.  Grandma replied with, "Regarding her religion, honey.  We talked to the minister about Paige's religion choice she has to make."

"And what choice is that, Grandma?" I asked loudly, kind of annoyed.  I felt as if the two sides of me were back at it and battling again.  And it made me mad.  Grandma got up and stepped closer to me, giving me a soft pat on the shoulder.  "Well," She started, "Don't you want to go to a group where people will welcome you?  Don't you want to worship your Lord?"

"I don't know," I responded.

"It's not to late," Grandpa added, "I bet the minister would be glad to baptize you."

Papa murmured, "And you think we are the ones enflicting religion on Paige."

"What was that, Adam?" Grandma asked, tilting her chin up in a sneering way.

Papa stood up to meet her eye level and said, "Out of all of us, you should have the least say in what Paige chooses to be her religion.  Isn't there a rule where the daughter chooses her mother's religion?  Well, my daughter is Jewish, so my granddaughter should therefore be Jewish."

Finally, Dad joined into the conversation.  "My wife and I prefer not to practice any religion.  We will let Paige choose a religion to her own accords, if she decides to choose any at all.  And she will choose when she's ready, Adam."

"Fifteen is a good age to be ready!" Grandpa declared.

"So, what will she choose?" Grandma asked my dad.

I was infuriated.  How dare they talk about me like I'm not even there!  Why are they trying to dictate my life for me?  I stood up abruptly and yelled, "What if I choose nothing?  I don't want to pray, preach, do any of that stuff!  What if I just don't believe?"

And without another word I darted upstairs and slammed my face into my soft, warm pillow.