Hello world. Well, honestly, that's probably a bit ambitious. Hello all four of you who still read this blog. I'm sorry it's become a den of joy rather than the pit of sarcastic despair I intended this site to be. Actually, I'm not that sorry. In my life, I've been happy and I've been sad. Happy is just ever so slightly better.
Milton and I are still going strong. We're just a few hours shy of the 6-month mark. If you'd asked me a year ago if I thought I'd be in love with a guy as great as Milton, I would have told you I had a better chance of becoming a gluten-free vegetarian who believes in global warming and fibromyalgia. Oh and unicorns, never forget the unicorns.
If you'd told me that a guy as great as Milton would be in love with me, I would have thought you were just being mean. But we are in love. It's so much better than I would have imagined it.
In my prior life when I had crushes on boys (can't really call those relationships since unrequited love doesn't count), I was never comfortable. I wasn't myself, but rather I was some version of myself I thought they would accept, which thankfully they didn't. With Milton I have this intensely free feeling because I know he's in love with the real me. I've never had that nervous feeling like maybe he wouldn't accept whatever quirk I was about to display. I have no secrets or agendas. We can talk about anything, and I know he doesn't have any secrets. Although, I still have this sort of girlish fantasy that at some point he's going to tell me he's actually the crown prince of Denmark, and he didn't tell me sooner because he wanted to make sure our love was real before whisking me away to a palace life full of 24-hour chefs and endless shopping sprees. It sounds appealing. What can I say - mama needs a new pair of shoes (daily) and to never have to go to work again.
Just to prove how real our love is, we've now officially met the entirety of each other's families. I had already met Milton's immediate family, and he had met my sister and her husband, but now he's finally met the people who raised me. It went well. I think he really took a liking to the warden at the Southwest Missouri Juvenile Detention Center, but the tapioca pudding wasn't quite as zesty as I remembered.
Kidding.
We already had a weekend picked out for Milton to come to my childhood home so he could meet my parents and so I could do everyone's taxes. You know, the usual. As luck would have it, my father decided to attend a car show (read old man swap meet) near Oklahoma City the week before, so he got to have dinner with Milton and I before the real visit. I thought this would be a good way for Milton to ease into the particular uniqueness of my parent's personalities. Clearly my mother agreed. I believe her exact words were, "I think it's simply marvelous that everyone has had a chance to meet Milton before me. Why would that bother me in the least to have to hear about how nice and smart and funny he is rather than see for myself?"
#sarcasmrunsinthefamily
But since dad was in town, I couldn't very well not introduce him to the boy I hang out with every night. The three of us went out for pizza where Milton was introduced to my father an the sheer number of topics one might be expected to expound on in a typical conversation in my family.
We covered...
Jobs
Pool (the kind you play, not swim in)
College roommates
Alma maters (preschool to the present)
Dodge Motor Company
The Dodge brothers (they're dead)
Dodge bicycles (who knew those existed)
Christmas shopping (spoiler alert, dad - I'm not getting you Dodge stuff)
Antique car parts
Rain
Old men in the rain (specifically at swap meets)
Car swap meets (and all the ways they can disappoint)
Old cars (pre-1940 because everything else is basically new)
Pizza toppings
Specifically pineapple as a pizza topping
Whether pineapple counts as a pizza topping (I vote yes)
Whether anyone else wanted pineapple on their pizza (just me, then?)
Tennis
How good of a tennis player I am (my father lies)
Milton's football career (nonexistent)
My father's football career (also nonexistent, but he did play)
All the ways in which my father has injured himself over the years (if I had a nickel for every time I shoved a screwdriver through my hand...)
Digging up crystals in Oklahoma (apparently it's a thing)
The famous crystal my dad sold to the Smithsonian (for real)
And...
Ways to drive from Oklahoma City to Joplin without having to set foot on an actual highway
It was a great dinner, and I was so proud of how well Milton kept up with his end of the conversation. Dad gave mom a full report before he even made it back to Joplin. The buzz was positive.
I was still a little nervous for Milton to meet my mom and see my childhood home. It's such a personal thing. I tried to prep him for what he might see or hear or taste. Number one, I told him to wear comfortable shoes. The family spread is pretty massive, and my dad definitely relishes his role as tour guide. I also told him my mom would be cooking lots of meals and that she'd given up perfect housekeeping many years ago. Lastly, I told him to make a big deal over their dog. I'm pretty sure at this point they like the dog better than either of their daughters.
I think my parents were as nervous as I was because when we arrived, my mom had set up dinner in the fancy dining room using the china that only gets unboxed when the queen visits. She doesn't visit as often as you might think. Milton spent the next two days taking tours of my dad's various collections and having nice long talks with my mother about how great I am. Awkward.
As a bonus, Milton got to meet my childhood best friend, and he even got to meet her parents. It's only appropriate since I spent as much time with her family growing up as I did my own.
The final report was that everyone likes Milton, and Milton likes everyone. Success!
The only complaint from Milton was that the tours were a little long with insufficient time for bathroom and snack breaks. He'll get used to the itinerary after a few more visits. After years of these kinds of tour myself, I gave him the best advice I could - don't lock your knees, and it never hurts to have a power bar in your pocket.
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