Put out the flags!

Tah dah! Shock, horror, front page story.Put the bunting out and let off the skyrockets….

MY PARENTS LIKE MY BOYFRIEND!!!!!

Now, this is a complete first. All the planets were against it, the stars were even in an anti-junction. This is a completely unknown quantity.

I’m not used to this. My rebellious streak might go and get somebody they don’t like again, just to spite them. Having a partner whom my parents don’t refer to as ‘him’ or ‘that man’ has put me in a state of shock. I might need medication to get over this. Pass the Jack Daniels. Quick.

I’ve spent so many years with boyfriends, husbands, partners, that they hate on principle. I’m honestly flummoxed, I tell you, this comes as a real shock to the system.

We travelled down to London on Friday night, which took a while, as we were both absolutely knackered after a day at work. My mother suddenly rings and fesses up that she has fessed up to father re Mr A, France, living together, everything. Then says ‘not to ask HER to keep secrets for ME’ I didn’t pursue the point. Oh dear, is that good or bad? We didn’t get there until 11.00. Now, I can find my way to my parents’ house at the top of Hackney blindfolded (well, blind drunk often, in any case). But my darling little brother has the temerity to live east of there. I don’t do east. I can do you pretty large tracts of London from Camden to Tulse Hill, but my geography of anywhere east of Dalston is…non existent.

I can just about get you to Mare Street, but after that, forget it. WHY would you want to go there? Miles of barren wasteland leading to places like Ilford,Romford, and Dagenham…..or Leyton….no….no thank you. I did quite well actually, got all the way to the road before without a map. Then the AA routefinder on which I was depending for the last little wiggle told us to turn right into a brick wall. Great. After my minor epi, Mr A got us there.

Well Mr A hit it off with my brother…..those guy things, sussing out each others taste in music, and movies, admiring his samurai. Mr A had bought Kali a mad fluffy toy cat which he assured me she’d love. Worst thing is, she did.

He also decided to buy Matt some Gundam, little fighting robots. Only because he wanted some himself. Worst thing is, Matt’s eyes lit up as well. Kali and I just shook our heads in despair. Boys, toys, then on to role play and bad horror movies and off they went. Many beers consumed till I separated the two of them by force and sent them to bed. Kali and I had a proper conversation. (I am teasing here, we did all talk normally as well).

Then…………………………off to the parents, putting the evil deed off as loing as possible. Got mother some flowers, then off to sunny Dalston. When I got there, I could hear my father shouting from the pavement, which isn’t good in a stout Victorian house well set back with a garden. Asked father for parking permit, he said to put the car in the drive. I know our drive, it’s slopy, narrow, and partially obstructed by a lamppost. So we lost Tigger’s wing-mirror, as macho pride was riding high. Hell, I know it’s bad enough on a pushbike (experience and bruises).

Finally get in, father is by now stropping in dining room while mother makes tea and puts flowers in water. He has THAT look on his face. Oh dear. Mr A daringly engages conversation about the war by giving him a book on the RAF. OMG. In ten minutes, they are the worlds bestest friends, even when Mr A tells my dad his Dad was a blackshirt…(while I kick him). Then he is whisked off on the guided tour of MG, motorbike……boy toys…. I am stunned.

Mother meanwhile has dragged me into the kitchen to tell me that ‘she likes my young man’ (that’s pushing it). I would have noticed anyway, she has been dimpling and flirting with him for the last hour.

We all have lunch in a bizarrely civilised fashion, my family behaving unnaturally like some kind of Stepford Family…..not throwing things, etc…they are a little murcurial usually, the kindest decription has been ‘bohemian’…….

So all, is oddly, sweetness, light and little fluffy bunnies…….

Well, my equivalent thereof…….what did you expect?

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6 Responses to “Put out the flags!”

  1. Oh Khlari, your family sounds great to me! A bit strange perhaps, but nice nevertheless!
    I’m happy that everything worked out well!

  2. That’s fabulous news Khlari … now don’t go chucking him just because they like him!!! You’re not allowed to do the teenage thing, not even when your parents still treat you like a teenager lol

  3. Strange…yes. Boring, never! Sometimes wish they were a little more predictable though in some ways. No, Mr A is here to stay, but am still in state of shock (some JD might help here!)

  4. Duly noted … but I’m not back down till June … It’s been suggested that limiting myself to one weekend away a month is a good idea … don’t want to provide too much ammunition!

  5. Khlari’s Mum is a little scary, I would imagine, at times, but I found her to be lovely towards me when I met her. I could see, though, how Khlari and her Mum would at times clash! x

  6. My mother is the lovechild of Doris Day and Herman Goering. Pastel-coloured gestapo babe. Don’t let her fool you.

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