Are All Parents Embarrassing?

Based on my last couple of nights’ sleep, I’ve decided to save myself the effort of going to bed tonight. There’s little point in tossing and turning in the dark, getting hot and bored, when I could be doing something productive, like actually getting round to researching my next major uni essay. Or blogging.

Tomorrow, my parents are driving me over to my boyfriend’s parents’ house for lunch. Boyfriend and I have been together nearly three years, and so far I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping my parents well away from his. I love my parents, don’t get me wrong. But somehow I just can’t see our dads playing golf together or our mums discussing Strictly Come Dancing. My Mum, for starters, would want a good honest brew with a digestive to accompany said discussion. Future-mother-in-law would prefer a cold glass of champers or, on a less indulgent day, an exotic concoction of Indian spices in a pure China teapot. She is honestly one of the nicest women you could hope to meet, but she can be... intimidating. Albeit completely unintentionally. She used to work for the Queen, for crying out loud. She must look at me sometimes and wonder what on earth her handsome, intelligent, privately-educated, cultured, catch-of-the-century son could possibly see in a northern lass like meself. Not that she’s ever anything other than lovely to me. My Mum’s wonderful, but she can get nervous easily. This usually leads to her becoming so flustered and clumsy that the surrounding area has to be declared a Disaster Zone and cleared of anything fragile whilst she’s confined to sitting on the sofa – “no, don’t worry - we don’t need help, just you sit there and relax [Translation: Get out of my hair woman, before you smash something else up!]”. This is something we have in common, and it doesn't sit too comfortably with the double-barelled elegance of my boyfriend's family. Remember the scene in Love Actually where Martine McCutcheon's character first meets Hugh Grant's, and she's so afraid of swearing in front of him that she ends up swearing several times? Replace swearing with breaking things and you have my Mum and me.

Then there’s my dad. Personally, I love chatting to Dad. Being slightly deaf, I find it really difficult to hear men for a lot of the time – I struggle with their lower tones much more than I do with women. But this is never a problem with Dad. Honestly, the man could referee a Man United match without the need of a whistle or microphone, and the entire stadium would be able to hear his commentary. But I’m aware that most people have better hearing than I do and therefore don’t really appreciate being constantly shouted at. Not only that, Dad isn’t the best conversationist (conversationalist?). Even I admit that. We don’t so much talk as exchange rubbish with one another. I’m HOPING he won’t embarrass me tomorrow, but I can’t be sure. Dad is in management, and incredibly successful – he swings deals for his company worth millions of pounds on a daily basis. So he must be good at talking to people. But Mum and I just don’t see it. I think he’s so used to dealing with ‘clients’ and ‘potential investors’ that he’s lost any ability to relate to people on a personal and social level. I’m afraid Dad will look at Future-father-in-law and see competition, or potential business partner, not a pal. As long as he doesn’t attempt to upstage them, all will be well...


I’m actually really excited about tomorrow. Not seeing my boyfriend for a few days has reminded me of exactly why I love having him around (I’m sure that the fact I haven’t been at school for a week is completely irrelevant).
I can’t wait to see him again, even if it is coupled with the fact that it means leaving my parents. They’re only stopping for lunch, then they’ll head home again. I don’t know when I’ll see my them, which makes me sad. I don’t think I’ll see them until April - that seems a long time from now. I wish we lived closer to each other, but I chose to follow my boyfriend down south and I’m happy with that – most of the time. I just adore my family - my parents, my step-sister, her husband and two children. We’re close as anything. I think part of it is because of how the family was suddenly torn apart about a decade ago and we were forced together in a way which would take too long to explain now (that sounds very cryptic... really, it’s just tragic). But there we go. There are seven of us now. Before I moved down south, we all lived within thirty seconds of each other. Literally. Same road. Obviously the rest of my family are still that close to each other, still ducking in and out of one another's homes as if the houses were just different rooms of one large house. In one sense I hate that they can carry on being close and happy without me there. It’s possibly the only time in my life I’ve experienced jealousy.
On the other hand I love that they’re all so close. I don’t really think my parents will embarrass me tomorrow. I don’t care much if they do – their coming to my boyfriend’s parents’ means I get to spend another day with them and that is far more important to me than avoiding any potential embarrassment.