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01 December 2005

Nearly Shit my Pants!

On two particular occassions this week - one from each parent!

Background info:

Mom and dad have never liked the few boyfriends that I have brought home. I shouldn't say they didn't like them persay.... more along the lines of them not liking me dating them. Technicalities. That seems, until PC.

Shit My Pants, Occassion 1 Background: Mom and dad have call display. History has dictated that when any male calleth said parental home for me (said daughter), dad looks at the number and yells "kid, that idiot is calling". Surprisingly enough, he makes no effort to pick up the receiver, for he wisheth not to receive.

SMP Occassion #1: PC calls Wednesday night because I'm at mom and dad's every Wednesday night to tutor, unless, of course, I am at a local Irish Establishment enjoying anything spiked. But this Wednesday, I was home. Dad looks at the phone. Dad answers the phone. Dad proceeds to talk on the phone and shoes me away, saying he will call me when he's done TALKING TO MY BOYFRIEND. And pleasantly. Because he wanted to. Did the room start spinning for anyone else???


SMP Occassion #2 Background: Mom usually interjects with some form of the comment of me 'peddling my ass' because anytime I date someone she doesn't care for me to be dating, I must, logically be therefor, peddling my ass. And quite reasonably, she will have naught to do with said peddling situation which would include even being remotely civil. Not quite two hours ago I was talking to her. Perhaps we'll go to the Costco town next weekend. Why not take the boys? Meaning my father, her husband and PC, my boyfriend.

I'm at a loss.

My parents like my boyfriend. If I were 18 and not nearly 30 this would be a complete and reasonable ground to break up on. Thankfully I'm not 18 and I think he's sticking around for awhile.

*phew*

And his mom invited me for Christmas dinner - the 25th at 4pm. He informed me I was to come because he wanted me there. I'm really liking these dynamics.

5 comments:

Potor said...

I have a had an iron clad police since I was a teen to never tell my parents anything about my love life. Nothing. At all.

Ms Dare2dv8 said...

I've never had anything iron clad with regards to my mother. I've tried. I've failed. Continuously. I often wonder if either one would die if the other wasn't around to torture the shit out of them. Curious.

Potor, you, m'dear, make me giggle.

Jen said...

Wow, you're lucky. My parents didn't like my husband until after we were married (and now they think he's their third child). Actually, I remember a specific time that my Dad threatened him with a shovel, and his face was turning purple, which meant he was serious.

I think this may be important... my word for the verifier is "vhruumm." Interesting.

Ms Dare2dv8 said...

oooo - the purple face is the true indicator, eh?! Word verification must mean you're ready to go - aka: VARUUUUUUM! Only with a silent h. But really, is h rarely anything but silent?

:)

Jen said...

Well, only in cases like "My Fair Lady."

"In Artford, Eriford, and Ampshire, urricanes ardly HHHHever appen."