MEET THE PARENTS

Paco has yet to read my blog, but no matter. He thinks it’s great that I have one and maybe because he doesn’t read it that's why he is always ready to suggest new topics, however controversial. I could say “you won’t believe what Mr. S did today at work” and he would say “Why don’t you blog about it?” Never mind that it might involve the IRS, illegal immigration or the TABC and we could all go to Sing Sing for 20,000 years if the Feds decided to peak at my blog that day. In other words, I think Paco is very sweet for making these story suggestions but he may not appreciate that once it gets out there in the blogosphere anyone with a computer and at least one functioning finger can read my deepest secrets.

With that introduction, I will now tell you a story, at Paco’s suggestion, of my first meeting with his folks...

After we had been dating a few months, Paco told me he wanted me to meet his folks. This was a big honor and I immediately accepted, but with one caveat. Since his folks live out of town a ways, we would be spending the entire weekend with them. That meant sleeping in their house, under their roof, if you know what I mean. Did they have a guest room, I asked? Yes, Paco assured me they did. Where would I sleep? In the guest room. Where will you sleep? On the hide-a-way in the den. Okay, good. There is no way I am sharing a room with you at your parent’s house. My mother (may she rest in peace) would be appalled and if the shoe was on the other foot not only would Paco be sleeping in a separate room from me, but it would also be at a hotel on the other side of town. And my father would have the key to his hotel room locked in his safe. Paco agreed and seemed relieved, too. We felt it was more respectful to sleep in separate rooms, surely that first weekend at least.

So off we went for the weekend to meet the parents and all went swimmingly. Until bedtime. Paco and I were in the den, making up his bed when his mother walked into the room. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Making up Paco’s bed” we said in unison (we had rehearsed this part during the three hour drive up that morning). “You don’t have to sleep in here, for Pete’s sake. That’s silly. You are both sharing the guest room.” “No, thank you but we like this arrangement just fine. Really. We are more comfortable this way” Paco pleaded. Finally relenting, his mother shook her head in amazement and wandered off to bed and we did the same. To our separate rooms. It was awkward but neither one us was ready to share sleeping quarters at his parent's house. After all, I had only just met them and I did not want them thinking their son was dating a wanton hussy. That could come later.

After making up his bed Paco and I chastely said good night and I wandered off to the guest room and shut the door. I found out later that at that point Paco’s father came into the den and said to him “Say, don’t you two sleep together?” (secret meaning: you don't expect us to believe you're not, do you?) To which Paco replied “Yes, Dad, we do, but not here.” His father apparently was incredulous that we were making such a show of our innocence but no amount of chiding could get Paco to join me in the guest room. Lights went out and we hoped that was the end of it.

After dinner the next evening Paco and I dutifully went to the den to again make up his bed. Once again his father walked into the room, this time apparently on a mission. “You two don’t have to do this, you know. This is just silly. Just go in there and stay in the guest room. You will be a lot more comfortable.” At this point the cringe factor was off the chart and I fled to the security of the guest room and shut the door. How is it that Paco’s parents were forcing us to share a room under their roof? Neither of us was ready to go public with the full extent of our relationship and would have preferred to ease into that aspect a bit further down the road.

I sat on the edge of the bed assessing the situation, determined to hold onto the illusion of our chastity. No one could make me sleep with my boyfriend, not even his own parents! Suddenly from the other end of the hallway came this from his mother “Get in there and sleep with her for heaven’s sake. This is ridiculous. Your father and I don’t care if you two are sleeping together. We are fine with it so just get yourself in there and sleep with her!” I was beyond embarrassed. My face turned a deep crimson and I buried my face in the pillow. It was as if there was something unnatural about our not wanting to share a room. It was the ultimate role reversal. Parents shaming their children into “having relations without benefit of clergy”. It was just too much.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened a crack and Paco stuck his head in the room. “I guess I might as well sleep in here with you. I think it’s the only way we will get any peace around here. Do you mind?" he asked. “I guess you're right, " I said, "we might as well bite the bullet and relent. I’m afraid your parents are going to think ill of me if I don’t sleep with you.” Then I added “Just to appease your folks I will let you sleep in here with me. But we are NOT having sex and they can’t make us!”