Bag ‘Em, Tag ‘Em, and Then Meet the Parents

My sister. What a unique, psychotic individual. She’s one of those beautiful, creative, hysterical, insane people that just seems to attract people to her. She’s always been that way. She’s the kind of person you just like to be around and want to be like. I find that weeks after I have spent some time with her, I’m still trying to straighten my hair like her and figure out what to do with these incredibly high heels she talked me into buying.

For years, Ginny has lived a lavish single girl lifestyle – late night bar crawls with random strangers (sorry, Mom), shopping sprees, and a killer professional life that would make anyone jealous. Her dating life has always been…sporatic?…random?…nonexistant? I mean, she had a lot of first dates, but never anything more really. So imagine my surprise when she emails me one day and says she is bringing someone home to meet the folks.

A few days later, I get a phone call from my mom asking me if I thought it was okay for her to make The Boy a piece of ceramics to welcome him to the fam. Of course, I reply without hesitation. Of course he should have a piece of Mom’s ceramics.

My sister then sent the following email to my mom:

I can already tell this trip is going to be disastrous. I’m begging – don’t overwhelm him. He’s never been caught in parental solitary confident in a retirement community, never had a serious girlfriend, and never had ceramic trinkets to attempt to love. Neither of his parents drink or curse and he doesn’t know how to handle girls. Oh god ¢ ‚¬ €œ I’m doomed.

To which my mom replied:

All who visit us must partake of our sick sense of humor, our love of all things ¢ ‚¬Å“golf¢ ‚¬  including the cart, and our admiration of fine ceramics. These experiences will occur with anyone you bring to our home. So comfort yourself in the knowledge that we will treat him no differently than anyone else ¢ ‚¬ €œ no more, no less. And should he find himself feeling overwhelmed during the weekend, he should simply drink more beer.
Love,
Mom

I read the email and immediately booked a plane ticket home for the weekend of their visit. There was no way I am going to miss this!