Me: I have to ask you something. Meeting Stephanie really highlighted it for me. Have I done something wrong? It seems like your mom and dad don’t like me. They didn’t ask me a single thing about myself. They don’t seem interested in me. I mean, maybe they’re not interested, but I am the first woman you’ve brought home since (Primo’s ex wife), right? It’s been years since they have met a girlfriend of yours.
Primo: They weren’t happy about having to set up the spare room for me.
Me: That’s it? They’re annoyed just because I didn’t want to share a room with you? Do they always react that strongly to things? Because I didn’t think this would be that big of a deal. But they were kind of rude to me when we arrived. They hardly spoke to me. Even when I tried to talk to them, they just gave me short answers and then went right back to bashing Stephanie. They will barely make eye contact with me.
Primo: No. That’s not it. That’s not all.
Me: Then what did I do? I have never had this problem before. Parents have mostly liked me. If they didn’t, they seemed to fake it pretty well.
Primo: I sent them the address to your blog.
Me: But why?
Primo: I really like it. Your friends like it. I thought they would like it. But they read it and said you are self-centered and shallow. And they don’t agree with your politics.
Me: You mean my blog where I write about the quest for the Yard of the Month award and the search for the perfect purse and aren’t shoes amazing?
Primo: You do talk about politics some.
Me: A tiny bit. But so what?
Primo: Politics are really important to them.
Primo: They don’t agree with your politics.
Primo: So they don’t like you.
Me: Because we don’t agree politically.
Me: When did they say this?
Primo: It’s been a while.
Me: You knew? You knew they already didn’t like me, even before we came here?
Me: Why didn’t you say anything? You could have warned me. You could have not brought me. I didn’t have to meet them.
Primo: You would have to meet them someday. We are getting married once my divorce is final.
Me: They could die before then.
Primo: I thought that once they met you, they would realize how wrong they were. I didn’t think they would be able to dislike you once they had met you.
Me: I mention politics about once a month on my blog. The rest of the time, I write about how the fix is in for the yard of the month and how I want all the rabbits to be dead so they don’t eat my flowers.
Primo: I know.
Me: When I do write about politics, I discuss issues, not parties. I talk about what a jerk Fidel Castro is. I mentioned Father Joe and the time he spent in the concentration camp in
Vietnam before he escaped. Is any
of that so controversial? Are they big Fidel Castro fans? Big concentration
camp fans? Is that it? They don’t like me just because we have different
political ideas? Does that mean I’m not supposed to like them, either? Because
by definition, if they disagree with my views, I also disagree with theirs.
Does that mean I am supposed to not like them? I don’t agree with your views,
but I love you. What do political opinions have to do with friendship? I have
plenty of friends who have different views. I don’t care. We don’t talk about
politics. There are plenty of other things to talk about. Purses. Shoes.
Gardens. Food. Rabbits. Cats. Food.
Primo: Everything is political with them. My dad, especially. My mom mostly goes along with him to keep the peace. She is the nicest person in the world.
Me: I have never had a boyfriend’s parents not like me. Or at least, not like me and show it.
Primo: I am sure that once they get to know you – or once my mom gets to know you – that she will like you.
Me: I won’t talk about politics with them.
Primo: That’s probably a good idea.