Meeting the Parents

My dad and stepmom were in town this weekend and when Man Candy asked how long they were staying I asked if he wanted to meet them. I was totally joking and expecting him to freak out. Because that’s what I’m used to. And it’s what I would do. I totally adore him, but the thought of meeting anyone in his family makes me break out in hives. He is not like me. He said that if that was what I wanted, he would be happy to. It wasn’t what I wanted and I proceeded to have a panic attack. However, I only see my parents once or twice a year and Daddy Dearest wanted to meet him so I acquiesced.

You know what? It was awesome. My dad loves to hear himself talk and will talk to anyone. There are times Stepmom and I keep walking along, leaving  him behind to tell strangers his life story. Or my life story, depending on whether they seem like they would appreciate father/daughter stories or not. He told Man Candy plenty of these. Apparently he’s not aware of my deep hatred of being embarrassed.

At dinner, my daughter quizzed him on his favorite color, his favorite tv show, favorite whatever-happened-to-pop-into-her-head. She asked how tall he is and then said, “You’re short.” I have never seen her be so immediately comfortable with anyone. And I had one of those rare moments where I was exactly where I wanted to be, with everyone I wanted to be with.

It turned into this big lovefest. My parents love him. Stepmom’s comment was, “He is CUTE!! Oh honey, forget about that age thing!!” He likes them back. They hugged him when they left. The email they sent when they got home says that he’s a keeper.

Overall, the whole evening was just easy. Damn it, I think I’m in trouble.

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~ by Kat on December 6, 2011.

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