Meeting the Parents

So after partaking in the highly couples-esque activity of helping him to choose a tie--at the mall, no less!--he says he has to drop by his mom's house to pick up a suitcase to pack for the business trip he leaves on the next day.

"You can sit in the car," he says. Yeah right! The line he told me two weeks earlier about meeting my parents came back verbatim at him: "I'm not afraid of meeting your parents."

So we go inside. I am dressed for a day at the mall in layered spaghetti strap tanks, cargo capris, flip flops and curly beach hair--not exactly ideal for a first impression, but at least it's cute. Mom is cute, stepdad is super nice, little step sister is cute, all is well. We end up chatting for about an hour, and it's nice. R. looks like he's about ready to hang himself.

We leave (hugs all around! I'm not a hand-shaker, I just can't do it. BUT mama went in for the hug, not me! score!) and not five minutes later, R. gets a TEXT MESSAGE from his stepdad: "Your mom and I voted. Two thumbs up."

First of all, whose parents text message?! Second of all, score again! I'm in like flint. (I don't even know what that saying means, but my mom says it all the time) We went home to pack and eat pizza and hang out before he left on his long business trip.

He'll be back Thursday, but don't expect silence from me in his absence... things are never quiet in my world.