The Anti-climax

Last week, I told you about the impending weekend with my parents, which was not only going to involve them meeting the cute neighbor for the first time, but a possible reaction to my sleeping over at his house, since I was being so generous as to give up my bedroom to them.

The first meeting took place on Friday night. We were all going to a baseball game. Good first meeting, as there is not too much pressure to keep a conversation up and running. The meeting went well; better than the baseball game, but that's another story. I don't really have too much to report from the first meeting. In fact, I'm afraid this entire story will just bore everyone, it was so drama-free.

We got back from the game pretty late, and the cute neighbor said good night to my parents and vice versa. I went inside to get everyone settled. While I was brushing my teeth, my dad asked if I was going to sack out on the couch. I said, "I'll probably just go across the street." He said, "Ok." Then my mom asked me the same question. I gave her the same answer. She too said, "Ok. So we'll just see you when we see you in the morning?" "Yup," I said. And that was that. Transition into adulthood: Complete.

I wasn't really expecting any drama. First of all, my parents don't criticize life decisions that Grayer or I make. Yes, my mom may suggest that I keep my bread in a different location in my kitchen, or ask why I'm taking a certain route home when I am the one who lives here, thank you very much, so I do indeed know my way around. But when it comes to things that actually matter, they stay quiet. When I told them I was quitting my job to go to South America for several months, they said, "Ok." Second, I am an adult. I live 1,000 miles away from them. They raised me to be an independent grown-up. They did their job. They can't say anything.

Saturday evening, we grilled burgers on my porch. The cute neighbor contributed to the meal with a side dish and beer (which my parents don't drink, and he knew). Afterward, the friend who introduced me to the cute neighbor (and who is from my hometown, which is very strange and has a sister who lives in Boston. We're like the same person.) stopped by to say hello and we all played cards. It was actually quite a fun evening. I got a little nervous when the cute neighbor made some slightly bawdy jokes, such as suggesting Tiger Woods should have stuck to whoring, which was apparently good for his golf game, but my parents just laughed. I mean, really laughed.

I knew they liked him when they kept asking me if he was joining us on our other endeavors throughout the weekend. When it was time for them to leave, they told me that it had been nice meeting him, with my mom adding her classic mom line: "He's nice." But then, she went above and beyond her usual mom line and actually added, "He's funny." Wow. That is some high praise right there. To actually form an opinion beyond "nice?" My dad even followed up with an email today, telling me, "Very nice to meet [the cute neighbor]- seems like a good guy."

Sorry I couldn't bring home the drama or even a really funny meet the parents story, but sadly the cute neighbor is just too cool to try to tell my dad that he can milk anything with nipples or break anybody's nose playing volleyball. He's got strong approval ratings from Fenella and now my parents. Next up: Grayer!