I thought her Dad offering milk was an example of how he wasn’t too bad and that it was her mother causing the problem. Hence Dad was “one thing” - OK, whereas her mother was quite another (not OK).
And I too am very grateful for my in-laws who are lovely, welcoming and have treated me like family from day 1.
Yes. Like, he came in the door - my parents had been warned he was coming, and had accepted his coming at first, that is the level of my mom’s craziness at the time - and my dad took one look at him and then me and kind of gave me a “sorry, sorry” look, before he offered him milk.
My parents and him and I sat down and tried to talk for a few minutes, but my mom was in a simmering rage which soon built up to a screaming fury.
Nava translated it properly. As for the Indian bit, that was my hope that it would help them accept him - that I wasn’t really dating that unusual of a guy, he was Indian. It never mattered because a) I was dating, which was a complete no-no. Would you believe I never really understood that? I blame Bollywood - my mom loved sappy love stories and I guess I kind of figured when my time came it would be OK. Not. At. All. Dating was completely taboo.
B) He was South Indian, and
C) He was a Protestant.
In hindsight, I think my mother might have been bipolar, but she never would have gotten diagnosed. I come from a culture where mental health is perceived as a switch - it’s either “on” and you’re sane, or “off”, and you’re the crazy aunt in the attic.
Mom had a screaming fit because he existed and because I dared to bring him into the house. Let me remind everybody here I was twenty at the time! :eek: