Monday, March 22, 2010

Meeting the Parents

I waited a bit to post this one for fear of being discovered, but I think I'm safe now.

I had been going out with a nice man (we'll call him Matt) at least once a week consistently for about two and a half months (he is only in town on the weekends because of his job). We had also sent texts semi-frequently when his was away. We got to the point that he told me he wasn't going to ask any other girls out, he started buying me things like crazy (including a DVD player), he complimented me sweetly, and all signs pointed toward exclusive dating, although we weren't 'official.'

He wanted to hang out one Sunday, but I had already told my mother that I would come home for dinner. Naturally, she knew about him, so I asked if I could take him along. She could never remember his name, so before he came, she wrote M-A-T-T with a black marker in big block letters across the palm of her hand.

She has a habit of being an animated story teller, so as we were around the table, she would wave her hands about while talking. "Matt" was sitting to her left, I was across from her, and my dad was on her right. Fortunately, she'd written it on her left hand, so he may not have seen it... If he did, he was being very good about ignoring it.

Yet every time she would wave her hand, flashing his name, my dad and I would peal into another bout of laughter, seeing his name so conspicuously. Then she would cross her arms and try to tell the story without using her hands. Within thirty seconds, she'd forget and be waving her arms around again.

That's my mother, in a nutshell.

PS - He never called me or asked me out again.

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