I'm like an abused dog when it comes to relationships and my parents. My mom very much disliked my last boyfriend, so I learned never to talk about him, much less my feelings, around her. I don't think my dad cared much about my relationship either way, but I couldn't talk about it with him either because ... well, I can't really talk to him about anything other than computers, dvds, and vacation-planning.
When I started dating Gary, I didn't tell them for at least six months, and even then, I leaked the news to my sister, knowing full well that it would travel to my parents within a few hours. Accustomed to our "don't ask, don't tell" policy, I was content to keep my relationship to myself, and I grew suspicious if they ever asked me questions about him.
After putting it off for a year, our parents, Gary and I had dinner together for the first time a few weeks ago. Inside, I was actually dreading the encounter. I convinced myself that my dad was going to be severely anti-social, much like the time when he didn't say anything to Gary when my mom and I left them at a table by themselves. And then I knew my mom would talk too much and potentially bring out a toy robot that she conned some dorky comic guys to give her. We would sit there in silence as Gary's parents would wonder what the hell kind of family we were. I didn't dare tell Gary because I didn't want add any pressure to an already pressured situation, but all my friends at school knew my angst. "Everyone's parents are weird!" they said. Their attempts to comfort me were in vain. I resigned myself to utter awkwardness and humiliation.
Then, wonder of wonders, my parents were
normal. I couldn't believe it. My dad actually conversed with Gary's dad, asking him questions and offering his opinions on the most corrupt countries in Asia ("Philippines, definitely the Phillipines.") My mom and I glanced looks at each other that communicated, "What the?" My mom left her robot at home and enjoyed talking with Gary's mom. Together, the four of them reminisced about fruit from their motherlands while I sat there, giddy with relief.
If you couldn't tell, that dinner made me very happy. Gary sometimes complains that because of our distance, it doesn't feel like we're progressing toward anything. But that night, I felt like I had crossed a major hurdle. For a long time, I've worried that my parents might one day decide that they don't like him, and that would start a exhausting and saddening battle. The dinner, though, relieved those fears and readied me for more interaction.
Last week, he spent Thanksgiving with us. Before he arrived, I was still nervous about how to act with him around my family, but everything flowed naturally (at least for me). The funny thing was watching how my family would act around him. My dad, in particular, does little things to impress him. You might think that this is because he wants to ensure that Gary will like our family and stay with me, but honestly, that's not how my dad works. I think he likes having another man in this house of women, and he likes doing things that another man might appreciate.
For instance, for the past 11 months, our 55 inch Sony widescreen television sat on the floor of the living room. I told Gary about this over the phone, which he always complained about. It didn't matter to us, though, because my family and I were content to sit on the floor to watch television. The day before Gary arrived, though, a large, very nice stand arrived in the mail, and my dad even suggested hiring some day-laborers to help him set it up. So unnecessary. Anyway, over Thanksgiving, for our
Lost- and
Arrested Development-watching enjoyment, we had a properly set-up television, complete with surround sound.
I'm thinking of all this today because I just received an email from my dad. We're going to Vegas the day after Christmas, and Gary's coming with us. I've been to Vegas with my family too many times to remember, and we've stayed at the mid-range hotels mid-week to get the lowest rates. Lately, we've been staying at Bally's, a great place to stay because it's relatively inexpensive yet readily accessible to Paris, Bellagio, Aladdin, and other high-class hotels on the Strip. For this upcoming trip, however, we're staying at the Venetian. The
VENETIAN. What is that? When my mom finds out, she's going to crack up. I've only stayed there once, and that's because we crammed in NINE other people. Of course, all this makes me feel very uncomfortable: my abused-dog mentality is wary of my dad's nice treatment of Gary. I'd probably feel more comfortable if they disliked him just a little. I shouldn't worry about it though. When Gary comes back at three in the morning smelling like stripper, we will probably reach our natural state of equilibrium.
