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This is a question When I met the parents

When my g/f first met my parents for lunch, my Dad leant over and ate food off her plate. My mother was mortified, I was a bit confused, she thought it was wonderfull and that she'd been accepted.

We at B3ta are sure you've had worse than this though... tell us all about it.

(, Thu 19 May 2005, 13:27)
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This question is now closed.


Went to pick the (then) ladyfriend up from her place before a night out clubbing in London-Village, and while chilling out in her room with a beer we get a knock on the door, and it's her Mother coming in with a present for me.
It's a block of resin hash.
She asks if I would like a smoke, which I rather dubiously say yes to. (Never met this woman before). She then follows this up by asking if I'm OK at rolling up - which I wasn't really at that time - and so to help me out she calls her son in (15 yr old) and he then takes it all into his room. Minutes later a well rolled joint is presented to me and my girl. She turns it down, so it is left to me to finish this one alone.
Cue a massive Whitey on my part, as there must've been the whole block in this thing, and I had to delay going clubbing by about an hour as I recover, making myself look crap infront of my girlfriend, her mother and brother. Great.

On a side note, she did had massive norks.
(, Thu 26 May 2005, 9:54, Reply)
first meetings
The first time my current partner met my folks we were enjoying a nice cup of tea in the garden. My dad decided it was a good idea to bring a fully loaded shotgun out to shoot a mole, which when the mole escaped he casually chucked the gun down on a garden bench. He really did live up to the mad country bumpkin image.

Meeting his folks for the first time was just as bad, I went down for breakfast on the first morning to find his dad washing the dishes, not unusual you say? Dad was totally naked. I am so glad I did not have my contacts in.
(, Thu 26 May 2005, 9:30, Reply)
Who?
My (then) girlfriends father called me by the name of her previous boyfriend for about 3 months. Clever man.

Now married (after 12 years) and he still struggles to get my name right some days...
(, Thu 26 May 2005, 9:01, Reply)
When my ex-ex-gf met my perants...
She got chatting to my mum, me of course being the pervert that I am i was standing on the stairs, hinting silently that she should come up to my room.

Twenty minutes later, they're still talking...

Another ten minutes go by, I realise my gf likes my mum more than me.

It's okay now though with my next gf I made sure she came round when I was home alone!
(, Thu 26 May 2005, 0:23, Reply)
football
LIVERPOOL WON THE EUROPEAN CUP.

aside from that, i was watching the footy one saturday before my ex (current at the time) came round when i got a knock at the door, some middle aged woman wondering what i was up to. so in no short words i told her i was watchign the footy and i wanted to be alone, to which she replied she that she was 'her' mum. cue going redder than red and the usual ear bashing of not being good enough. as my gf waited in the car.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 22:54, Reply)
GF meeting a mate's parents
As a variation on a theme:

GF and I hadn't seen eachother for quite a while. We went to a party that some of my old school mates were throwing. We ended up kipping at my mate's parents place, the first time we had slept in a double bed. I walked up the stairs and managed to tred dogshit all up them. Whoops. Quite naked, I was just about to get into bed when my mate, pissed as a loon, burst in and informed me of this. So, after that excitement, GF and I decided to have a cuddle and go to sleep. Or not, as it turned out, because we had the noisiest (and, we agree, best) sex we have ever had, keeping the whole house up. Well, aside from my mate, who was dead to the world.

Breakfast that morning was an interesting experience, especially dealing with my mate's mum. Whoops.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 22:39, Reply)
Oh where do I start?
There are a couple of occasions that stand out really. I suffer from a crippling shyness that is hard to bear (I cover it up well, but it gives me indigestion).

The first time I met my ex's mum, I was sat on the sofa having a really good natter. Just I relaxed and stopped worrying that I might accidentally blurt out, 'I've had sex with your son and I LIKED it!', I look down and realise that as I was talking, my shirt has come undone to the waist and I am revealing a rather large expanse of cleavage. I casually button myself back up. His mum, bless her, never mentioned a thing.

Same ex, and I am going to meet his Nana for the first time. She is a woman who many people came to fear and dread, not a nice little old lady by any stretch of the imagination, but pure unadulterated EVIL. She rules the family and her sons with a rod of iron, and is VERY strict about things like drunkeness and bad language,

So I take her youngest son (ex's Uncle aged 20 at the time) to the pub and get him right royally shitfaced on Vodka. When me, ex and Uncle return home, ex is sat on the back of his Uncle, riding him like a Donkey into the toilet so they can both vomit violently.

After a few minutes forced conversation over the sound of retching, they both emerge. Ex's Uncle looks at his mum and states "She's fucking brilliant Mam, she bought me all my fucking drinks..."

My ex then puked on the carpet.

I'm pleased to say that although my mum humilated me when my lovely current (and hopefully long-term full time) BF came to visit by advising him never to have nail extensions because 'they'll ruin your nails' and indeed what nail varnish he should use, he seems to have an easier time of it.

I've met his parents, they are distressingly nice, and I haven't made a total arse of myself yet. There's time though...
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 22:05, Reply)
Mum's cleavage.
I went out with a girl with rather large bazookers. 32GG they were - so large in fact she wanted to get breast REDUCTION surgery. Of course I talked her out of that repeatedly. So the time came about to meet her parents. I found out what side of the family she inherited them from. Definitely her Mother.

I couldn't help it. My girlfriend's mother was wearing a low cut top and when speaking to her my eyes... they just wandered down repeatedly. When my eyes were on my meal I would take little glances up towards it. Her cleavage had captured me in some sort of trance.

I don't know if I was caught in the act.

I wasn't invited back.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 20:36, Reply)
Knight...
One of the first times I met the now-Mrs-Audax, her father came to the door holding a medieval broadsword and wearing a chainmail shirt, whilst enquiring `What are your intentions towards my daughter?'
Reenactors, eh?
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 20:13, Reply)
my mother the comedian
When my mother (who can't speak english well) first met my boyfriend, her first words were:

her: "hiii, i am your mother!"
he:*puzzled, wondering if he should nod politely and assume it was just bad english*
her:"IS JOKE, hahahahaha, i am not your mother, i am giantsquid's mother"

she actually nudged him too and said, 'get it?'
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 19:58, Reply)
Oh, forgot to tell you....
In the first of many 'not really serious' relationships of my youth I popped round to see the girlfriend of about 4 or 5 days.

On ringing the doorbell, I'm greeted by the father of my lady. Being only 15 or so, lots of nervous twitching ensues in anticipation of the usual questions.

Low and behold, the next three hours is spent sat in front of the oldest PC available as her father shows me the 'new' game he's just bought. Now alarm bells should've rung at that point, as the PC was dusty and clearly hadn't been used in years.

Seeing as this was the first meeting of her folks, I kidded myself into believing that their daughter was obviously just preparing herself to meet me. As I said, 3 hours passed before I realised that maybe I should be off, as it was starting to get dark and there still was no sign of the girlfriend.

Next day I'm approached by a friend of my girlfriends in a fluster. The reason I'd been left in the lurch last night? She'd asked her friend to dump me, but she'd 'forgot'!

Oh, that's alright then. Spent the rest of my school days trying (unsuccessfully I might add) to get in to her mate's pants, because 'that'd show her!'.

Apologies for the length but not the piercing.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 19:57, Reply)
Bonfire Night
I was seventeen. I'd met this guy a few months back; and after a while we got together at a party; he was nice though a little sleazy, and I was quite excited because he was my first proper boyfriend. A few weeks down the line was my school's bonfire night: fireworks, bonfire, school guy making competition- you know the drill.

As he didn't go to my school, or in fact any school (gap year), I thought it would be nice if the b-f came along. Knew my parents were going to be there, but hoped we could avoid them- they're quite protective of me, especially my dad. But no, we run into them in the middle of the field where the bonfire's being held.

'Who's this?' barks my father, eyeing new b-f with disdain, clearly not taking to him at all.
'Oh, this is Marcus,' I say, terrified. 'My boyfriend.'
'How lovely,' my mother says sweetly.
'Pleasure to meet you,' says Marcus, very smarmily. My father turns slightly away, and says rather loudly,
'Well, I know what I'd like to see on the bonfire this evening.'

He didn't last long after that.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 19:56, Reply)
Not actually my boyfriend . . .
. . . but this guy who I really liked and he liked me, although we had never got round to asking each other out. So anyway, at the darling age of 15 I'd appeared in some lovely performance with a drama group I was in. My sweetheart had come to watch and my parents were giving him a lift home. Bad idea.

We entered the car, and my mum (who was driving) sat down, placed her hands on the steering wheel and began making 'vroom vroom' noises.

My Dad then decided to tell us that 'the car park looks like one of those off that GTA game.' He then whipped out an imaginary rifle and began shooting at innocent imaginary pedestrians.

My younger brother (who had been placed between me and my beloved) decided that he would attempt to chew both off our shoulders at various intervals during the ride home.

Never did get with him . . .
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 19:29, Reply)
"Mum, dunno how to tell you this, but, you know my girlfriend, well...."
Well here we go... just created a nice new b3ta account just so I can be anonymous enough to tell this story...

I can't remember clearly when I first met my boyfriend's parents because, you see, I purposefully avoided them and avoided them and avoided them, like the plague, out of a mixture of extreme guilt and embarrassment.

Now, why did I avoid them? Umm, thing is, I had a secret, the kind of secret that we knew wouldn't go down particularly well with his folks, but one they were eventually going to have to be told.

You have to understand that they were fairly fundamentalist Christians, the Dad especially (who was fairly homophobic as well). A bit middle class, very proper. Never the less, somehow, they were very civil to me! Anyway, the secret, which I seem to be avoiding telling, yes, it was 'that' one, the ultimate embarrassing "Trisha" style secret, i.e. we're talking "Hayley from Corrie", the "she once had boy-bits downstairs" secret. :-X I dunno exactly what happened when my BF told them; all I know is, the sh*t /really/, totally, utterly, hit the fan, and big time. Hence, me keeping a wiiiide bearth [sp.] for as long as I could.

Time can be a big healer though, ten years down the line we all get on like a house on fire (no, really!)

They eventually told most of boyfriend's immediate family, who've taken it well I think, but they totally chickened out of telling my boyfriend's Gran! In fact, they just hoped that Gran would pop her clogs in good time, which after a while she eventually did, thereby allow them to circumvent the problem of ever having to tell her (in fear, I gather, of the fact that telling her might actually be a cause of her popping her clogs.)

I gather the extended family still hasn't been told the embarrassing family secret, which could be a problem if me and boyfriend do get married next year, as half the people there are going to be my family, who've obviously all known me since I were a nipper, and therefore all know my skeleton in the closet, and are a right royal gobby cockney bunch, and hence during conversations are likely to induce at least the odd angina attack in some of the groom's family. Ooops.

Anyway, that's a tiny snippet of my admittedly only very /marginally/ relevant story! That is all. I will now resume my normal b3ta account. Normal service will resume shortly. Byeeee! :-D
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 19:25, Reply)
I went out with a girl when I was about 17 who finally invited me around to meet her family
I arrive just 5 minutes after her sister and brother-in-law had announced that they were getting divorced because he'd been shagging someone else. The mood was not light to say the least, I should have just left then but her lovely mum insisted that we all had dinner together.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 18:45, Reply)
Ah in-laws....
...I appear to have had a succession of scary in-laws...

First set - the local family planning nurse. A cross between Olive Oyl and Nanny Ogg from the discworld books. At least once a week she would present me with a selection of 'freebies' to 'test'. Said presentation would be accompanied by a the biggest shit-eating grin you never did see.

The mafioso - a few years back I dated an EXTREMELY upper-middle glass lass from Essex. First meeting with her family round the dining table. in order to make conversation with her rather stand-offish old man I asked him what he did. the answer came back that he worked as a director for a large waste disposal firm. He then regaled me with the tale of the bloke he knew who knew a bloke who 'breaks legs 2 for the price of one'. his daughter, who had never watched The Sopranos couldn't quite understand why I insisted(probably suicidally) as aaddressing him as Tony...

And the current GF folks...first meeting her mum enaged me in a conversation as to why I shouldn't use a particular brand of nail varnish..
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 18:10, Reply)
Out of the crying man into the fire
At 16 or 17, I was at a 'small gathering' that the hostess had been allowed to hold at her parents' house, despite the fact that they were in bed upstairs. Unfortunately she and her new bloke had a bit of a row and, visibly upset, he slumped in a corner to hit the cider while she spent all night flirting with some other dickhead. Heroically refreshed, he eventually passed out, only to wake up in the middle of the night needing a piss. He wandered into the parents' bedroom looking for a bog at about 4am, and, evidently a tad confused, whipped it out and started slashing on their gas fire. The drumming noise woke up the mum, who had to run downstairs for a washing up bowl or something to catch all the waz. By the time she got back, he'd (mostly) finished the job, and had curled up into the empty space in bed beside the dad. The mum gave up at this point, and went off to sleep in the spare room. The bloke wouldn't tell us what his new girlfriend's dad said upon waking to find not his wife but a fat snoring pissy Korn fan with streaky eyeliner and his knob out lying beside him in bed the next morning, but it lasted about half an hour behind a locked door and then the dirty little pissmonkey ran all the way home and never saw his girlfriend ever again.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 18:00, Reply)
When I first met
my girlfriends parents, it all went swimmingly until said 'gf' went to have a bath for about 45 minutes and I was left being quizzed by her old man, who having just got back from a spot of rabbit shooting decided he needed to clean his rifle, on the table in front of me whilst grinning insanely and generally making my trousers unwearable from then on.

Another time he burst into her bedroom in the middle of the night to complain about noise, wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't getting undressed and had my boxers half way down my legs. I am scarred.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 16:28, Reply)
So having known her parents for 5 years
sitting on the sofa, watching wimbledon for around 45 mins I felt I should say something

'Is this tennis ?'

yeah I'm stupid and I rock !!!!!
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 16:02, Reply)
voddy and the burds da
been seeing her a wee while, the parents came to visit. fkn minted but cool folks. she had just passed her driving test, so, stupidly, i bought her a bottle of smirnoff blue as a well done gift. in true gent style me and her dad cattled the lot. then we got another bottle an necked that too. a meal in a fancy eatery had been booked (u b chip west end glasgow)so we went. i decided to have a wine drinking contest with myself at this point. next thing i knew i had insulted them some how and they effed off and my mate who worked in the eatery was helping me out and advised me to go home. so i went round to her flat and started a fist fight with her dad. magic.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 16:00, Reply)
Fancy a Joint?
I was recently seeing someone a few years older than me and was taken back to meet the parents. We all went to the pub and had a great night, her 'rents ended up leaving about an hour before we did.

So Anyway, we arrive back to the house (A little worse for wear) and the father is still sitting up in the kitchen (1.30 am or so at night). He asks me would I join him for a cup of tea an a smoke, I politely agree, and he sends his daughter to bed. (Mind you, she is 30 years old)

So there I am, sitting across from this man in his mid fifties, all the alarm bells are going off in my head, I'm expecting to get the whole "What are your intentions with my daughter" speech. What I really really really was NOT expecting was for him to pull an ounce of hash from his pocket and say "So, will you join me for a few joints"
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 15:21, Reply)
on our wedding day
... so its not really meeting the parents for the first time, but it was the very first time that both our extended families had met. everybody was there: distant relatives, close family, all our friends.

so i proper screwed up my speech - i told the assembled masses that me and the missus slept together on the first date.

cue howls of laughter, and scowls of anger from my mum and her dad. the bastards still havent forgotten it.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 12:40, Reply)
Chance 1234
I had an Ex like that years ago - she hoofed me in the knackers to "see what my face would look like" - put me in hospital, the twunt.

Anyhoo, when I first met her parents I trod dogshit into their axminster. It was evidently dropped on the driveway by their yappy little rat-dog so I felt little remorse.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 12:26, Reply)
when my parents came
up to see me at university we decided to have a cup of tea in my room while waiting for my new boyfriend to arrive and be judged. He sauntered in shyly and the introductions passed off well with a lubricating little joke from me. My dad proceeded to glance along my bookshelves and picked out an`anonymous looking volume with no title on the spine.

"Ah!" he said, reading from the front cover, "The Cosmopolitan bedside book of ORGASMS"

Boyfriend's face fell.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 11:50, Reply)
Not so much the parents...
...but my wife had a 4 year old son when I started seeing her. The first night I stayed over I got out of the shower to be greeted by a squeaky voice saying "you've got a big willy".

First (and last) time anybody has said that, shame it is only big in comparison to a 4 year olds!
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 11:05, Reply)
Exchange student
In my impressionable youth, back in high school, I went to prom with the exchange student from Albania. Now for anyone who has dated meeting the parents is always an interesting time, and well for exchange students they change homes several times, so I got to meet 4 sets of unapproving Adults. Anyways, when I went to pick up my date for prom, I went to her latest house, whose parents I didn't know, and she hadn't even gotten back from the hair stlyest yet. Sitting in their entry way with the parrents doing my absolute best to make small talk i kept digging a bigger and bigger hole to bury myself in. An hour and a half later I finally got out of there.

Moral of the story, just be gay.
(, Wed 25 May 2005, 6:36, Reply)

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