Meet the Parents

Technically this should be a two-part post: his and hers, with matching accessories. I am hoping that today I can take my boyfriend home to "meet the parents" and next week I will meet his when they come up for Thanksgiving. Fingers crossed it all goes well - although I suspect our biggest issue will be, once we've finished meeting everyone, that we turn to each other and go "Thank God you turned out normal!"

My roommate asked the two of us last night (as we were discussing these plans) if we were nervous. To which he and I both replied (almost at the same time): "Nope." I hadn't ever considered this more than a courtesy to my parents; my mother complained a few days ago that I never really told her I was going out with my boyfriend; she said if she wasn't my Facebook friend she wouldn't have known, to which I replied that if she hadn't been my Facebook friend I would have made a greater effort to announce it to the family. Whew. Talk about your crossed wires. Anyway, despite this I guess my progression from romantic interest to actual girlfriend was so...natural, it didn't seem like a big deal to me even though it was.

Being a girlfriend is a wonderful experience, but if I had less of a considerate, fun, and caring boyfriend I don't think it would be half as much fun. Babysitting his Crackberry aside (I am so technologically inept that I spent yesterday turning off the alarm every ten minutes because I didn't know how to disable it), there isn't much I won't do for my boyfriend. I am so comfortable in our relationship that this step seems waaaay smaller than I suppose it is; I've never dated before, and I think everyone is constantly surprised by this since I took to it so...readily. I can't help it: I'm a prodigy.

I can't be nervous when he told me his mother was worried she wouldn't pronounce my name correctly (let's just say I've been Jennifer to Guenevere and leave it at that) and wanted to know if I had a nickname. I don't, but hey, I've always wanted one. I like Ginnie. Gennie. And you all already know I'm not a rabid Harry Potter fan-girl, so my interest in that nickname is completely sane.

In high school Meet the Parents is something everyone does with various stages of trepidation. In college, I get the feeling it isn't such a big deal (unless someone's parents are huge snobs, or serial killers, or you're getting married). We're supposed to be adults now: we choose partners not according to our parents' rules but according to those which they've instilled in us. I think I've done remarkably well; who else has ever told me, upon waking up from a nap, that I look beautiful? Not. A. Single. Soul. So I will Meet the Parents and be sweet and open and honest, and hope that they like me because it's a courtesy I'm willing to extend on behalf of my boyfriend. When it comes right down to it, his opinion is the only one I care about.

Arrivederci!
WolfGrrl