It’s a delicate subject, asking your mom what the sleeping arrangements will be when you bring the boyfriend home for Thanksgiving: “We can sleep in different rooms if you want. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s your house.”
This week, my boyfriend will be spending a few days with my parents and sister. We’re staying at my parents’ house out of state. And we’re sleeping in the same room.
I wasn’t sure whether my mom would be ok with that. Yes, he and I are moving in together, but it is her house. Her rules. The chances of her mother allowing such a thing are only slightly better than a doughnut surviving a pregnant women’s meetup.
But she surprised me.
“Yes, it’s fine. I would have stayed in the same bed with your dad if I could have,” she said.
I’m not nervous about this at all, but I wonder if he is. He’s met my sister and parents before, but this is 2.5 days of hanging out, playing Scrabble and card games, watching the Macy’s parade and football, eating my dad’s amazing turkey and pies … mmmm … whoops! Sorry — starting to drool on myself. Where was I?
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays, and it means a lot to me that Kevin would leave his family and agree to come home with me. My mom is used to us not making it home; she has four kids who live in different states. One is married with kids, and two of us have jobs that don’t always allow Christmas off, so there’s always at least one absent from the holiday family photo.
But Kevin’s siblings are younger and this is the first time one of them won’t be around.
I told him I felt very lucky, and happy that he would do this for me.
“Well, we agreed we can’t spend any more nights apart, right?” he said, smiling, in reference to a little joke of ours.
I have a lot to be thankful for this year. So does he. He has yet to meet either of my older brothers. And they aren’t going to be home for Thanksgiving.