In which Sly and Doris get mad because I want separate rooms

October 2006 Primo is taking me to Meet the Parents. Little do I know that Sly and Doris already do not like me because I do not share their politics or religion. They know my politics and religion because they have been reading my old blog. Primo thought they might like it. Ha. We'll never make that mistake again.

I ask Primo what the sleeping arrangements will be.

"We'll share the guest room," he says.

"What?!" I squawk.

"It's a double bed."

"But sharing a room? At your mom and dad's? No. I can't do it. Don't they have another bedroom?"

"Yes, but what's wrong with sharing a room?"

"Your parents are OK with their unmarried* son sharing a bed with his girlfriend under their roof?"

"My parents pride themselves on being hip."

"I can assure you that when we visit my mom, we will not be sharing a room."

Primo asks his parents to prepare the extra bedroom. They gripe to him about what a pain in the neck*** I am being. When we arrive, they are cool and distant to me, barely making eye contact, asking not a single question about me. But that's a story for another post.

They do have the spare room prepared, but barely. Primo sleeps there one night, then complains to me about his back hurting. I relent, and he joins me in the guest room, although we go through the pretense of his sleeping in the spare room, because that is how it is supposed to be: you are at least supposed to maintain the charade of separate rooms and then one of you is supposed to tiptoe down the hallway in the middle of the night to join the other for some forbidden nookie. Honestly. "Hip" parents take the fun out of everything.

The second day, Sly offers us the shower in the master bedroom. "It fits two," he boasts. "Doris and I shower together all the time. You guys may use it if you want."

I gag as I fight back the mental image of Sly and Doris in the shower.**** "Oh, the shower in the guest bathroom is fine, thanks," I tell him.

Lord save me from hip parents.


* At this point, Primo's divorce wasn't even final.**

** Oh yes I wish I had stuck to my guns on the, "I will not sleep with you until your divorce is final" because trust me it would have saved us a lot of aggravation and money down the road if he had pushed Isabel to get it resolved sooner.

*** Not the part of the anatomy to which they really referred.

**** I am not squeamish about many things, but showering in a tub that has not been cleaned after the previous occupant has used it unless the previous occupant is my sister, my mom, my husband or one of my best friends makes my stomach turn. Showering after someone I dislike would make me betray my country.