I shared the wackiness that ensued when my parents met my boyfriend for the first time with Life2PointOh.com . . .
Living away from home can make meeting the important people in someone’s life more complicated. At brunch this weekend (a 20-something staple), one of my friends gave us the rundown on taking her boyfriend home to meet her parents in the Midwest. It was an experience for both of them as the entire neighborhood came by the house to meet the New Yorker that snagged her heart, while her brother broke out pre-braces pictures.
The first time my guy met my parents, I wondered if I had gotten punk’ed. Making plans for a vacation in Puerto Rico, he suggested we pick the flight with a layover in Atlanta so my family could meet us at the airport for dinner. Smooth plan. The hardest part was explaining to my mom this wasn’t a group field trip, but just me and the boyfriend she hadn’t met yet . . .
After an awesome trip, we get to the airport and walk out to the lobby. I see my mom and then my little sister darts across the lobby to give me a hug. She and her best friend Maya have their puffy hair coming straight down with a part in the middle. Their 10-year-old versions of a blow out. I make the introductions and Mom tells me my dad is parking the car. (My parents are the most functional divorced couple I know.)
We head to the restaurant and take our seats. My mom is usually comedy, but is trying to be reserved and observant as she checks out the guy who has caught my attention. Before she can start her questioning my dad walks up . . . in an orange shirt with palm trees on it.
Did he think he was going to Puerto Rico and not just meeting us?
I introduce the two most important men in my life to one another and my dad is all smiles. And then it was like someone said “action” and my family put on a show! My dad kicks things off asking us about the trip. We say what a good time we had and my dad sees it as a perfect time to tell us all about his trip to Puerto Rico – in 1972. He gives us all the details and that his favorite memory was the tree with red and white flowers. He asks if we saw it and for the next five minutes we think hard on if we saw the tree. Then remember, this tree is from 1972 . . .
Next up is my sister and her bff, who have resorted to calling each other Mimi and Dej (as if Deja is just so long to say). They start talking about relationships and little miss Mimi puts my sister on blast after being called out for being a player. “I’m not the one saying they are single and lonely,” she says. All my sister has to say is, “Why are you telling my business?” Really? Girls are worried about being single at 10?
Then it was my mom’s turn as she starts telling her favorite stories of me as a child. She tells how I was always in her food and the time she set me up by putting milk in a Coke can, after I was told to stop drinking her sodas. Of course I drank it and she jumped around the corner saying, “got ya!” I was happy my boyfriend didn’t mention I do the same things to him now. My mom then told the story of the last time she was at the airport. After getting off the flight, she walked in the bathroom. She was tired and went to the faucet first to splash water in her eyes, and just stayed there for a minute. When she opened her eyes, three men were looking at her, one with a camera recording her men’s restroom visit. “I hope it’s not on YouTube,” she says.
Twenty minutes later, my boyfriend is working away on his Blackberry and I’m wondering what’s so important that he is on his phone during dinner. He looks up and says, “All clear on the bathroom story on YouTube.” I then realize this just may work – he’s just as crazy as us.
The dinner finale: my dad. Somehow in sharing how he is decorating his house, my dad spills to to my boyfriend he wants to create a Wall of Respect on his 25 ft hallway (I never thought it was that long . . .and still wonder.)
Along with framed posters of Jackie Robinson, Benjamin Mays and other people that have inspired him, my dad tells how he has the perfect idea for the center portrait at the end of the wall: a picture of Jesus on the cross.
I could only laugh as he told me this tale on the plane. My dad may have a masters and work at the CDC, but the rural South Carolina in him isn’t going anywhere. And if he was getting that comfortable with my boyfriend, it was a good thing. He confirmed it the next week with a nice email on how much he liked seeing us together. He closed the email in ham style: “He reminds me of a young me.” I’ve already gotten pieces for his Wall of Respect for Father’s Day . . .
Have any crazy stories of bringing a guy home to meet your parents?