How I Met His Mother

Things with Mr. Wonderful are pretty good, thanks for asking! We're still in that early relationship phase where everything is hearts, rainbows and unicorn farts, which smell like roses and happy btw, yet we're not suffocating one another.  There is a comfortability (not a word, I know, but allow me some poetic licence) to this relationship that I don't quite understand, but I like it.  There is a lot of laughing, some weird faces and accents (on my part, natch) and an easiness that I'm enjoying. 

Everything was great...

and then came the day were I met his mother.

Now, this is not a story about how she was horribly nasty and made me cry; it was quite the opposite actually.  She is really delightful, pretty, kind, easy-going, she laughs at my jokes AND SHE MADE ME THE MOST AMAZING SPAGHETTI.  She's pretty much awesome. 

Instead, this is a story about how I am complete mess and need help.

They invited me over for dinner on Sunday and since I was in a carb-loading mood --
I'm training for watching the Olympics -- she was making spaghetti. FOR ME. (A mother who cooks is always impressive to me.)  Anyway, I was supposed to come around to her place about 4:00 on Sunday.  I said, for some unknown reason, that I would make a dessert.  Great!  Easy!

I was little nervous about meeting her, as most people would be, but I'm fairly charming and parents typically like me because I have gentile southern manners (please save your scoffing and retort for texts and/or emails, thank you). 

I had the dessert all planned out.  I had my outfit picked.  I was ready.      

And then, it all went to poop.

First off, I was late.  BY AN HOUR AND A HALF.  For some of you, this is no surprise, as you already know I'm not really punctual, but this was bad.  They hadn't eaten all day and were waiting on me to start. It wasn't my fault really, but golly, was this not a good impression.

I also forgot to bring the dessert.  Then I bumped into a table, knocking my entire drink onto the carpeted floor.  At some point, I also thought I broke the toilet, but I managed to fix it somehow.  I did my dorky laugh.  I was totally winning at life.

She had no choice but to hate me now.  She was going to hate me and with all the reasons I gave her, I couldn't blame her at all.  And yet, she didn't.  She was gracious and took it all in stride.  The next time I saw her, she gave me a fudge pop.  If that's not liking me, I dunno what is.
 
Now, she could secretly loathe me, but at least I have opportunities to win her over later.  And this time, I'm not going to forget the dessert.