Meet the Farkels

I did it. I met them. I still have all of my extremities...and my dignity is still happily tucked away in my Tic-Tac container, where it belongs.

We drove out to Long Island yesterday to meet the parents. It's exciting because parents set the tone for how quickly you can plan a wedding and whatnot. In any case, Russell is wonderful, so I had no doubt that his folks would be equally wonderful.

We arrived in the early evening, and I got the grand tour of the home. After which, Russ's mom asked us to go pick vegetables in the backyard garden. (How cute is that?) While we were there, his dad showed us his pet turtle. Russ's pop is a bit of an animal lover. Anything with legs (actually, they owned slugs and snails as pets, so strike that),--um, anything without a home and with functioning mitochondria has been absorbed into the household, as was the case with his snapping turtle. The turtle is kept in a lovely turtle sanctuary in the backyard, where he regularly dines on goldfish, steak, and meaty chunks of dog food. Tough life.

So we go to dinner at a local Italian place. Everyone is settling in, and Russ's pop is starting to tell us stories of his hijinks as a kid. After a few tales of public disturbance, the conversation turns to what Russ was like, and was he a devilish child. Then we posited that perhaps the troublemaking skips a generation....at which point, I said...

Wait for it....

"It's okay. I can start taking Adderall so that the kids get it right through the breastmilk."

And, SCENE!

Total silence. Mental "Our-Fathers" could be heard throughout Long Island. Russ started guffawing into his napkin. Thank God. Once he started laughing, his folks laughed a little too. Thank God.

All in all, I think they liked me...but more importantly, Russ likes me. And he still likes me after I suggested to their parents that not only do we have sex, we are going to have children, forced them to think about my breasts, and that I was going to drug our hypothetical children by proxy. How do you do.