It’s the most terrifying thing you’ll ever do.
Well, second most terrifying, maybe—but meeting her father is a whole ‘nother ballgame, and therefore a whole ‘nother article.
And you know, don’t you, that from the second she lays eyes on you, she’s judging you.
Examining you.
Determining your worth.
Trying to figure out—much the way you have been—if you’re the guy for her precious little girl.
Good luck, fellas.
Look, this is one particular minefield I can’t steer you through—just as every woman is a precious, unique snowflake; every woman’s mother is a precious, unique snow storm, waiting to unleash her fury upon you.
All I can do to protect you is arm you with the knowledge that, should you defy expectations and rise above hers, a good mother will welcome you into her (extended) family with open arms.
There is sunshine at the end of this one boys—here’s how to hang in there.
The scenario: a friendly get-together over brunch—a Mother’s favorite meal.
-Accept the fact that, somewhere, in her illustrious dating past, your girl dated a man who was probably twice (at least in Ma’s eyes) the man Ma figures you are.
Now, don’t let this get you down. She just met you. You’ve got minutes—or however long you’re meeting with Ma for—to convince her otherwise.
-Mothers hate showboating.
I don’t care if you’re the CEO of a Fortune-500 company; if you’re meeting her mother over brunch, and Mom offers to pay, let her. Or resist, once, calmly—and keep your voice barely above a whisper.
She’s trying to bait you—to see if you’re going to grandstand about being able to ‘provide for her baby girl.’ (And you may very well have been for the duration of the relationship—but I’ll wager she’s been providing for a lot longer than that, hotshot.)
-Mothers like manners.
Meaning that, yeah, it’s okay to pick up the check (–as long as she doesn’t resist.) Do it discreetly.
-I know that there’s some blonde over in the other booth who keeps eyeing you.
On any other occasion, you may be foolish enough to believe you can steal a lingering gaze or two, unbeknownst to your lady.
This is not ‘any other occasion.’
I don’t care how hot the blonde is, or how daft you (incorrectly) assume your girl is—her mother will catch you.
Hell, she wants you to look.
Because she wants to catch you.
-Her Mother was once wooed herself.
This is important to remember; although she’s the obstacle right now, the beautiful lady across the table—the one who birthed the beautiful lady beside you—was once charmed also.
Blood from a stone, boys.
Blood from a stone.
Finally, and probably paramount:
Once again—
–the beautiful lady across the table
birthed the beautiful lady beside you.
So no matter how meeting her Mother goes—
–she’s already done you a solid.
