From the very first kiss, my Mr. Husband said, “Oh! You have to meet my mom!” For some ladies with enough dating experience at age thirty-three, this immediate exclamation is a death sentence. This is the sign of a man who is single because his mother makes him single. My fears quickly rid my head once I met Mr. Husband’s parents--approximately two weeks after the first kiss. He was not creepy and uninvolved and she was not overbearing and severe. They were all warmth and sunshine. They break the mold. You can hear the Beatles singing in their every step.
The next weekend, week three of dating, I met the grandparents in Nashville. I was on a whirlwind relative tour. I’d already met one brother at this point and the youngest brother followed soon within the first month. It was a bombardment of epic proportions. Mr. Husband met my parents and two brothers within the next three months. Family. And they are all so happy to be with each other. Ah, this is family at its finest.
This weekend, my Mr. Husband surprised me with the surprise of all surprises. He brought my parents here as a super gift for my birthday. Apparently, for two months he and the parents have been in cahoots! Mr. Husband would listen to me cry in the mornings on the way to work as I complained about their not coming to visit to see our new house-in-progress. He’d simply shake his head, knowing all the time that they were indeed coming and would give me the face time and house time that I desperately needed. (I call my parents on the way to work at least three mornings during the week.) There are no two people in the world more dear to me than my parents. They are retired and live in The Villages in Florida, so they play tennis, play golf, and drink wine for a living. They have the good life. They planned well.
And, now, wherever they go, my parents leave a trail of laughter and happiness. They drop good cheer and funny moments like Hansel and Gretel drop breadcrumbs. Fortunately, no dire end is waiting in a witch’s oven—only pure happiness … and shopping for this family.
Mr. Husband said we were ordering a pizza for Friday night. He was so excited about the pizza. Not unusual. He started vacuuming when we got home from work on Friday. Totally out of character, but he did buy a Dyson recently (he tends to go crazy with his space-machine-vacuum). When the pizza came, I opened the door to find my laughing parents in a radiating beam of happiness and holding a pizza. Amazing. I was speechless. That doesn’t often happen. Might have been the first time in my life. Ever.
We drank wine and watched The Odd Couple on TCM—my parents cackled over Walther Matheau and Jack Lemmon. We visited the new development and saw our plot of dirt and planned our kitchen design. I made my dad act like he was holding a turkey in front of one house while mom had to act like she was holding a grandchild as I documented the moment in a photo. We witnessed my parents steal the neighbor's newspaper to read early in the morning and, then, wrap it back up to toss on the neighbor’s front porch as if unread. We walked through a botanical garden, drank more wine, and did some shopping. We capped the Saturday off with a visit to the in-laws. Mr. Husband’s parents were all laughter and hospitality as they cooked steaks and poured wine for all of us. It’s important for these two parental groups to know each other and get along. They’ll have grandkids one day to communicate about—and we want everyone to be close as the family grows.
And so there we were—the four of us—and sometimes the six of us. My Mr. Husband was the one who pulled it all together (without me planning it!). He was totally wearing a mask and cape and I’m sure he could fly that day. He was the hero of the moment. He is often my hero and the person I strive to emulate, but this weekend he topped the birthday cake. The appearance of my parents as a surprise was better than anything I could have imagined. Even better than 50% off with an additinal 20% off--no kidding. This was good. We laughed until they left. This is my world and my Mr. Husband makes it go round.
The next weekend, week three of dating, I met the grandparents in Nashville. I was on a whirlwind relative tour. I’d already met one brother at this point and the youngest brother followed soon within the first month. It was a bombardment of epic proportions. Mr. Husband met my parents and two brothers within the next three months. Family. And they are all so happy to be with each other. Ah, this is family at its finest.
This weekend, my Mr. Husband surprised me with the surprise of all surprises. He brought my parents here as a super gift for my birthday. Apparently, for two months he and the parents have been in cahoots! Mr. Husband would listen to me cry in the mornings on the way to work as I complained about their not coming to visit to see our new house-in-progress. He’d simply shake his head, knowing all the time that they were indeed coming and would give me the face time and house time that I desperately needed. (I call my parents on the way to work at least three mornings during the week.) There are no two people in the world more dear to me than my parents. They are retired and live in The Villages in Florida, so they play tennis, play golf, and drink wine for a living. They have the good life. They planned well.
And, now, wherever they go, my parents leave a trail of laughter and happiness. They drop good cheer and funny moments like Hansel and Gretel drop breadcrumbs. Fortunately, no dire end is waiting in a witch’s oven—only pure happiness … and shopping for this family.
Mr. Husband said we were ordering a pizza for Friday night. He was so excited about the pizza. Not unusual. He started vacuuming when we got home from work on Friday. Totally out of character, but he did buy a Dyson recently (he tends to go crazy with his space-machine-vacuum). When the pizza came, I opened the door to find my laughing parents in a radiating beam of happiness and holding a pizza. Amazing. I was speechless. That doesn’t often happen. Might have been the first time in my life. Ever.
We drank wine and watched The Odd Couple on TCM—my parents cackled over Walther Matheau and Jack Lemmon. We visited the new development and saw our plot of dirt and planned our kitchen design. I made my dad act like he was holding a turkey in front of one house while mom had to act like she was holding a grandchild as I documented the moment in a photo. We witnessed my parents steal the neighbor's newspaper to read early in the morning and, then, wrap it back up to toss on the neighbor’s front porch as if unread. We walked through a botanical garden, drank more wine, and did some shopping. We capped the Saturday off with a visit to the in-laws. Mr. Husband’s parents were all laughter and hospitality as they cooked steaks and poured wine for all of us. It’s important for these two parental groups to know each other and get along. They’ll have grandkids one day to communicate about—and we want everyone to be close as the family grows.
And so there we were—the four of us—and sometimes the six of us. My Mr. Husband was the one who pulled it all together (without me planning it!). He was totally wearing a mask and cape and I’m sure he could fly that day. He was the hero of the moment. He is often my hero and the person I strive to emulate, but this weekend he topped the birthday cake. The appearance of my parents as a surprise was better than anything I could have imagined. Even better than 50% off with an additinal 20% off--no kidding. This was good. We laughed until they left. This is my world and my Mr. Husband makes it go round.
1 comment:
I love this!!! What a FUN surprise! I only wish someone could have taken a picture of your face when you opened the door and saw your parents standing there!
What a man you have!
--Deborah
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