On Friday, my parents made the trip over to OUR place for pizza and beer -- only my parents. They were more interested with talking to us than going out to dinner my dad said. They brought us wine, we sat and talked and then my dad and the B.F. started talking Harleys, while my mom pressed me for answers about the B.F. After we gave them the grand tour of about 1,100 square feet and my mom started commenting on how "disorganized my room is and your bathroom needs cleaned,"only then did she start pressing me for answers about the B.F.:
Mom: So do you like him?
Me: You can't be serious right now.
Mom: Yes, do you like him?
Me: What kind of question is that? Of course I like him.
Mom: Well, how do you like living with him?
Me: Not bad. He cleans better than I do, takes the trash out and does so many other things without me even thinking about actually doing them myself.
Mom: Allison, you better not be lazy and never help. That's rude.
Me: Of course I help, Julie. (I call her by her first name when I get annoyed, which only makes her ask me more irrelevant questions.)
Mom: Well, I think you like him more than the others.
Me: OK, of course I do, great observation.
Since I left for college, every time I'd come home to stay for the summer or holidays, my mom and I go at it after being in a room together for five minutes. She's a nagger -- I secretly think all moms are and then she wonders why I get annoyed. But, that visit and conversation wasn't too bad, and I think my parents enjoyed themselves for their two hour stay at our apartment. Well, now that both families have met the new place, it's only a matter of time before the rest of our families know, and the meeting of the parents.