Meet the Parents

Nope nope nope. I’m not meeting his dad, family are off limits, it’s much too early in the relationship to ask such things.

I got the, “But my dad is really great, you’ll love him.”

He got the, “This isn’t fair, you haven’t met my family yet, why do I have to meet yours?”

Yes, I am dramatic and immature and make a weak argument. Why he’s still with me, we’ll never know.

Long story short, he won and my pettiness was shown up.

He proudly introduced me to his dad, and I pathetically laughed at nothing funny and otherwise sat mute. Of the four times I spoke to him, two times I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. The first incident was worse than the second.

After boyfriend left to make us tea, it was just me and boyfriend’s dad. Boyfriend’s brother walked past and I said, “Hey, come sit with us.” His reply was, “I’m just going to put a shirt on.” I responded with, “No! You look great without a shirt, come sit.” All the while, boyfriend’s dad was watching.

The second, albeit not as bad, was finally building up the courage to make conversation with the dad by asking him if he enjoys living in the country that he has been living in for the last ten years. When he said yes, I replied with the most surprised, “Really?” He’s ever heard.

Now you’ll understand why I really didn’t want to meet the parents; not because I was worried that they wouldn’t be nice, but because I knew that I would be a complete disaster.

Good luck to his mom who gets to meet me next week.

How to fix the flu

After date and Durban shenanigans, I went down to the depths of disease.

During my turbulent two weeks, male came to visit. He offered to make me tea and proceeded to stand in the kitchen cluelessly searching for mugs and milk and tea bags.

I don’t know how he got past my duck slippers and croaky croaky voice, but he called me the next day and declared that homemade soup would for sure take away my coughing, sneezing situation and fix me right up.

My favourite, sexy ducks

It didn’t. But with a lot of stress and worry on his side, he made the soup, asking me if it looked right. (Again, my cooking skills are none- existent so he was totally asking the wrong critic). It was delicious, not lying.

After which he threw blankets on me and tea at me and asked several times if I was really warm enough. When my reply to, “what do you feel like watching?” Was Jurassic Park, he looked pretty confused and after clarifying like five times, he began to look pretty stoked. There were also wine gums that he brought out halfway through the dinosaur- chasing- a- human scene.

Hopefully my next post will have more substance to it. I’m trying to go in order from where I stopped writing, up to now. Unfortunately budding relationships take up a lot of headspace, and I need to remember that I’m the only one who cares about my own one. Sorry guys, when I stop seeing stars, I’ll go back to my old, usual stories.

Date Things

I’ll skip the farewells and welcomes that I alluded to in a previous post and hit you with the good stuff.

There was a date. There was a floor full of unwanted dresses. There was a friend throwing heels at me. There was a boy who was super on time.

There’s been some back and forth banter, shared instagram memes and group invitations to hangs with no real agenda. The “will you go on a date with me?” Was inevitable, how he actually asked… not so much.

In a far off land, full of work presentations and colleague roommates, he would find seconds of time to send me a message here and there. “When I get back from this work trip, we should totally hang and watch Friends.” My response encouraged him to take it one step further, “When I get back from this work trip, would you be keen for hangs and to watch Friends on Friday night?” Again he got a positive answer from me.

When he got back from his work trip, he gave me a call that went something like this, “Hey Jordy, I think watching Friends is a really bad idea, so we’re not going to do that.” Cue the crickets in the background of my unexpected call. Only, he continued, “so I’ll fetch you at 7, wear a dress, see you then, bye!”

Smooth operator.

Cue the floor full of unwanted dresses and friend throwing heels at me. In the end I went for a short black, long- sleeved dress and borrowed brown boots. I was still applying make up when he arrived at exactly 7:15, just like he said he would. Tough times. I scrambled for purse and lipstick and more perfume.

He finally saw my gate open, and his date walk out of her home, stress in her posture and deep breaths coming from her pursed lips.

He gave me a single white flower and opened the car door for me.

There was awkward small talk on the way there and general confusion as to where we were headed.

We stood in front of a classy restaurant, and he announced to me, “they serve seafood! You said seafood was your favourite right?”

He gingerly put the wine that he had brought on the table, and whispered that he didn’t really know how the whole corkage fee thing worked. The waiter had to explain it to him.

We spent the night munching on calamari in my case, steak in his and talking about family holidays and funny friendship stories. We spoke and ate and sipped coffee until the restaurant was empty and the waiters started locking up.

Unfortunately I needed to leave the province at four the next morning for the long weekend with my family, so my Cinderella story came to an end when he dropped me off right after dinner, ending the night rather abruptly.

My housemates sat waiting for me to return and enrapture them with stories of my romantical evening.

When my friend asked him a few days later how the food was at that particular restaurant, his reply was, “I don’t know, I remember nothing about the food.”

All the pre- date stress things