I wrote this last Sunday night and forgot to publish it. As per usual.
Boyfriend came to my house for the first time today.
Which meant the first official meeting with my parents – obviously discounting
the time he drunkenly asked my dad for his permission to go on a date with me.
That’s a story for another time.
I was very nervous for this to happen. Largely because I
feel like I've sort of forced him into it even though force is too strong a
word. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the idea. I've been to his house and
briefly met his parents so it not exactly out of place for me to expect him to
also come to mine. We had arranged it at a previous date but then we had a sort
of argument and he fell sick so couldn't make it.
Last week I brought it up again and he was very against the
idea because he’s nervous and a little awkward and also I probably make my
parents out to sound like psychopaths. I guess I pushed it a little, as in I
didn’t simply accept that this wasn’t going to happen. Because it kind of has
to at some point anyway? I by no means demanded it however. Anyway he wasn’t
convinced. The following day I brought it up in conversation again. It was a
very smooth, very casual entrance and by no means pushy at all. He mentioned that his record player was fixed
and so I could play the record he got me for Christmas at his house some time.
I half-jokingly said you should come to my house first. To which he never
replied. And the following day he never replied. So two days later he sends me
a random text about the reasons for Hagrid getting expelled from Hogwarts. Boys,
am I right?
The result was anyway that he brought up later in the
conversation the possibility of visiting my house this weekend. Which thoroughly
took me by surprise. But Sunday arrived and so did The Boyf. I was nervous
because I thought my parents would barrage him with a flock of questions. He
was nervous for similar reasons, I don’t doubt. My parents introduced
themselves, my dad shook his hand (ugh) and then they left. Like actually left
the house. They had some ‘errands’ to ‘attend to’ in ‘town’. Who knows what
that was about and I surely don’t care. I was just glad they were leaving.
My brother also left not long after to go training (he’s an
athlete lol what a weirdo) and my sister doesn’t leave the room when there are
strangers about. So we spent the afternoon/evening in the sitting room watching
Gone Girl and later The Royal Tenenbaums. When my family returned some hours
later and it was time to eat I became increasingly anxious. I’ll try and
explain. To a certain extent I felt responsible and slightly guilty for the
fact that he was at my house at all. I know that’s not being fair on myself but
it’s how I feel. Anything that happened would be as a result of my asking him
to come. I really didn’t want to scare him off. I didn’t want my parents to
make him uncomfortable or assault him with unnecessary conversation. I didn’t
want his first experience of my family to be a bad one.
(It’s striking my just now how little I care about what my
parents and siblings think of him. Honestly, that was never something that I
even thought about except briefly. I feel like I should perhaps be worried that
I care so little for their opinion.)
Anyway due to my not wanting to scare him away I tried to
rush through the meal as quickly as possible. No easy task when my mother
decides to cook for a rugby team. Two massive bowls full of chips and chicken
goujons, a pizza, cupcakes, and some kind of cake covered in marzipan and
chocolate. Jesus mother, how many boyfriends were you expecting?
Conversation was alright for the most part. Unfortunately my
mother decided the best way to fill any kind of silence was with questions like
“How’s school? Are you working hard this year? What do you want to do in
college? What do you want to do after college?” Not even kidding, those were
the exact questions she put to him. I finished up and we quickly migrated back
to the sitting room where we continued watching The Royal Tenenbaums.
My other brother who is a teacher was in Dublin all weekend.
I don’t even think he was aware of the fact that I have a boyfriend which makes
the following story so much worse. We heard the car pull up outside and him
enter through the front door as we hastily moved so that there was an inch of
space between us on the couch. A moment later he opened the sitting room door
and stood in the entrance for a moment before wavering backwards slightly, out
of what I can only assume was shock. He stood there for a full two seconds
before stuttering, “Oh…is…um…anyone around…or…” To which I directed him to the
kitchen where my family had been forced to spend the evening. I can’t even
begin to imagine what he was thinking. He comes home after being gone for a
mere two days and his sister on a couch with a strange boy who he had no notion
even existed. All he wanted was to return after a long journey to relax on the
couch in front of the fire and suddenly it has been invaded by some random guy
getting cosy with his sister. No wonder he nearly fell over with shock.
At around 8:15 pm my boyfriend’s dad arrived and they left together.
That was it. He was gone and nobody had died. It almost seemed anticlimactic
but in the best kind of way. I texted him later to make sure he didn’t die from
a delayed shock reaction and he said it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected and he
actually had fun. He even said he’d come again. Yeah. We came from not talking
to me for nearly two days because I mentioned it, to willingly agreeing to do
it again. Amazing.
Later while ironing my shirt for school the following
morning my dad tried to talk to me. He does that every now and again and it’s
rarely comfortable for either of us. I’m almost proud of him though. He
genuinely seems to be really trying to be fine with this. He said Boyfriend was
“A nice quiet little chap” which I suppose is a good thing. He comes up with
the weirdest compliments, my dad does.
The whole event went much better than either of us had dared hope. It's a relief that it's over all the same. I'm definitely not going to be pushing for it to happen again.
