Now that the fiancé and I have announced to the world that we’re getting married in June, the first thing we realized we had to do was introduce our parents.
And by “we,” we meant “me.” As in gather our two sets of parents, each slightly crazy in their own right, in a confined space and hope everyone walked out alive…on my own.
We both absolutely adore our parents and are two of those lucky people who actually count their parents as friends. (No, really, my mom and I are creepily close. It’s a bit freaky the things she knows.) It’s not that I was worried about them getting along…I was worried about them getting along too well.
In my head, they would meet, become instant friends, and immediately bond over embarrassing childhood pictures and stories and only I would be there to blush.
I’m sorry but if my parents are going to humiliate me with the things I did as a 5 year old (and there is a picture my mother has been holding over my head for 20 years), my significant other is going to be in the room so his parents can return the favor. (Vindictive? Maybe. Fair? Yes.)
In preparing for this sojourn to the land of my betrothed’s childhood, I called my mom to see what the plan was. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hey mom. I was just wondering what the plan was this weekend. You see, there’s this party Saturday night…
Mom: Well, we’re going to get there around 1:30, take a walk around downtown Staunton, have dinner, and then take a hike in the morning.
Mom: You still there?
Me: Yes. Did I hear you correctly? Did you say a morning hike?
Mom: Yep! Did I not mention it’s an overnight trip?
At that point, my anxiety took a one way trip to the moon. For those of you that don’t know me, I’m not good with new people in unfamiliar situations. I tend to imagine the worst things that could happen, become convinced they will happen, and spend my time mentally preparing for them. The fiancé definitely earned his keep over the past week talking me down off a variety of ledges.
I did feel bad for the guy. He’s 2,500 miles away and, as stressful as these things are, they are also important steps in merging these two families and he can’t be there for it.
However, he did himself no favors in currying our sympathy when on the mega-family Skype call he announced that he had barely been able to sleep the night before because he was so excited for us.
I knew things would be ok when all six of us gathered around the kitchen table, in unison, laughed and said some variety of “Not me! I was scared to death!” Then his father cocked an eyebrow and quipped “One of these things is not like the other.” After that, the rest was cake.