I’m supposed to meet my SO’s parents in April, when they take a trip from their home in Ohio to see how their son is doing here in the swamps of Louisiana. (well, he doesn’t exactly live in the swamps, but I get the impression that that’s what they believe) I am a bit nervous about meeting new people in general, and I do want them to like me. Does anyone have any wacky or amusing parent-meeting stories? Do your SO’s parents love you, hate you, tolerate you? How do your parents feel about your SO?
Met them at an Easter Sunday brunch, and they didn’t speak two words to me. They just stared, like I was defiling their daughter (I was).
Granted, they were both pushing 75 at the time, but it was one of the most uncomfortable meals of my life. It was like meeting my grandparents.
It hasn’t gotten better.
My SO’s mom hugged me, bought me lunch, and took me shopping with her. I told him that if he doesn’t keep me around forever then I claim his mom and he can’t have her back. Everyone in his family seems to like me and everyone in my family seems to like him so it worked out well for us.
Best of luck to you!
I meet his younger brother tomorrow, but I am not as nervous about that.
Thanks, pbbth. This is shaping up to be a rather more serious relationship than I am used to, so meeting the parents is something that usually doesn’t even come up for me.
My SO’s grandfather was turning 80 and the whole family was gathering to celebrate. Aunts, uncles, cousins, the whole shebang. Perfect time to introduce me, for the first time in the three years we’ve been dating!
My SO’s grandparents are Japanese, while I am as white as can be. While she was serving a traditional dinner, Grandmother turned to me and asked, “TheMerchandise, can you use hashii?”
“Hashii…WTF? Oh man, I’m totally going to screw this up and everything’s going to be ruined forever” I say to myself, but the word does sounds a little familiar. Suddenly, the scene in *The Last Samurai *jumps into my head, where a delirious Tom Cruise is learning all the Japanese words. Hashii equals chopsticks!
“Yes, that’s no problem for me,” I answer and thus cement my SO’s family’s approval for Alll Eternity. Thanks, Tom Cruise!
But, in all seriousness, I think most families WANT to like their dear one’s significant other. Good luck!
You should totally write Tom Cruise a letter about that, TheMerchandise.
I think this is one of the funniest things I’ve read all year! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Seriously, good luck. I am by far the exception to the rule. They were 75. She was 29. You do the math. They were as old as my grandparents, and crabby to boot.
And FTR, it didn’t stop me from marrying their daughter either. 
Good luck!
The first time I met The Boy’s parents, we didn’t really get a chance to chat much beyond a quick intro and some how-do-you-dos, because we were at a movie screening.
The real meeting happened two weeks later, when I accompanied The Boy took me to his father’s 60th-birthday-slash-family-reunion-celebration. I also met his younger brother, the brother’s girlfriend, and a couple dozen aunts, uncles, cousins, old family friends and neighbours.
Apparently, some of the uncles snuck out partway through the party to smoke a joint in the backyard, and came back stoned out of their gourds… if you think chatting politely with someone’s relatives is difficult, try doing it when they’re so stoned they can’t even string together a coherent sentence and have pupils the size of dinnerplates. 
It was… ummmm… overwhelming, to say the least. Apparently I passed the test with flying colours, though. I suspect that my MIL would adopt me if The Boy and I were ever to split up.
Since we lived so far apart, and because of the odd nature of our courtship, my parents never met my wife until after we got engaged. My mother was so thrilled that I was actually going to get married that there were no problems at all.
I met her parents not long after we met. Her father actually asked me my prospects. Since I was going to MIT studying computer science, this was not a toughie. 
Especially because he was a musician. (Making money as a high school music teacher.)
I met my SO’s parents for the first time, as I was moving in with him.
He and I had made a run to the store to pick up a few things, and when we got back, they were waiting in the apartment parking lot, in a pickup truck, with the bedframe that my SO’s father had made for him. (My SO had only had a twin bed, this was a queen sized bed.)
We moved the frame into the apartment, and my SO and his dad get ready to go pick up a mattress for it. Dad looks at me and says “Since you’re going to be sleeping on it, you better come along to pick out the mattress.” The 3 of us climbed into the front/only seat of the truck and headed off. Dad wandered around the store, while SO and I tried out beds. We bought one, went back to the apartment, and set everything up. As my SO’s parents were leaving the next day, they handed me a paper bag full of something. Turns out it was a set of satin sheets, that they had been given and didn’t like. (We didn’t like them either, and ditched them shortly after that.)
I love my SO’s parents, and they have always treated me very well, but meeting them while picking out a mattress you will be sharing with their son isn’t the prefered way to do it.
My now-husband wanted me to meet his parents–we were dating, he knew he wanted to get married and I didn’t want to hear about it. He took me to a family reunion. His parents were thrilled to see me, and his mom dropped hints about weddings the whole time. “Tactless” is her middle name. It was a bit of an ordeal, but not horrible.
My parents came to visit me at some point around then, and he met them. All was going swimmingly until he said, “Oh, you’re from city Y? Do you know my mom’s best friend from college, the Z family?” My dad replied, “Oh, yes. That’s the lawyer guy that sued my parents while my dad was dying.” :smack: That was an uncomfortable moment, but my dad still hoped I would marry him. (And my FIL thought it was hilarious, and reminded me about it regularly for the next couple of years, which always reduced me to incoherent rage, since it was a pretty rotten time. :mad:)
We were friends first, both living at home at the time, so when we were at each other’s places, we met each other’s parents. My parents liked my SO right away, and my mom now definitely thinks of him as a son, and he gets pretty much the same treatment as the rest of us kids for birthdays and Christmas. He is also expected to empty the dishwasher when we visit, but they don’t expect him to vacuum or clean the dishes!
My FIL is a little more distant, but we get along well enough and my SO says he likes me. It’s just that we often have nothing to talk about, but I get along very well with FIL’s girlfriend. My husband’s mother passed away several years ago, so I don’t really have a MIL, though I consider the two of them to be my husband’s “parents”.
In terms of extended family, everyone seems happy and friendly and likes everyone else. I get along really well with my husband’s uncles. I think I made a good impression when I survived the first time I met his extended family: at their father’s funeral! Despite the saddness of the day, they all tried really hard to be friendly and welcoming, and it was never really awkward (except for a younger cousin… at 11 years old, she felt that her cool 19 year old older cousin was HERS and didn’t like me encroaching on her territory!)
Just be polite, but be yourself, and either you’ll do fine, or they’ll hate you, but if they hate you, at least you know that it’s because of their own problems, and not anything you did or didn’t do!
I was dating this woman from a different background than mine. They were Jewish, wealthy and urbane. I come from the bland burbs, am not Jewish, and am one generation removed from poor white trash. I met her mom who was almost cliche in how snobby she came off. I was nervous.
When she walked into the room, I was adjusting my glasses. She put her hand out to shake hands. When I went to shake her hand, I kind of hooked my glasses with my thumb in this spastic gesture and flung them across the room, striking her in the chest. I never really recovered from that first impression.