Meet the Parents

In approximately two hours, I will be dining with a very special company, indeed.

It's my much younger, 21-year old boyfriend's birthday today and I am meeting his parents, and his two sisters for a intimate family dinner at a restaurant that they insisted I pick because, and I will quote his mother on this one, "She seems like a picky eater."

It will be my first time meeting his parents and it's been a while since I'd met anyone's parents. Actually, I believe it's been about 5 years to be exact.

If this occasion doesn't call for three glasses of wine prior to the event, then I don't know what does. A funeral, perhaps.

I am currently on glass of Chardonnay number one and the butterflies are taking over my stomach. I detest formal occasions like this but I also know that it is a necessary and logical step in any normal relationship. A necessary and normal, but still...

"Don't be nervous. They're really chill," the boyfriend says to me.

But "chill" can mean anything in Chinese culture. Besides, parents will always be parents in any culture. They will probe and quiz and question my intentions. Jesus Christ, I am freaking out just writing about this.

If I survive the meet-and-greet and the subsequent 21 questions that surely will follow shortly after, I will be pleasantly surprised. Usually, on occasions like this, I am the opposite of poised and graced woman I've been raised to be. Quite frankly, I am a mumbling mess. I completely fail at impressing parents.

Now. Glass o' vino number two... I am looking at you, kid.