So, Joel met the parents over the weekend. It went about as well as could be hoped for. Conversation flowed. Cannolis were eaten. The "Oh My God, You Are So Much Like My Dad that I Should Just Slap Myself Upside the Head and Call Myself Electra" Factor was in full effect.
But I feel a lot better about Thanksgiving. The Boyfriend is doing a good job trying to remember which friend is which before he meets the remaining cast of characters.
Him: Gwen and Kelly are the only ones I know for sure. Kelly just married Mike.
Me: Umm... Yes, but everyone calls him Michael. He's not a "Mike."
Him: Michael. Okay. Not Mike. Wow. (looking at a photo) How tall is Kelly?
Me: My height, more or less.
Him: So Michael is really tall.
Me: Yup. (pointing to a new picture.) This is...?
Him: Your sister. Amanda.
Me: Nope. My sister is the one who looks nothing like me.
Me: It's okay. It's Alissa. She's the one whose house I stay at all the time outside Philly, who watched Bella for me when I was working on the murder investigation story in Delaware?
Him: Got it. You know, you and your sister have the face shape, it's just that your coloring is different.
Me: True. And we have frighteningly similar mannerisms. It's a little scary when we both get going. It's like Sisters in Stereo. You'll see. And this is....?
Him: It's Heather, but I only know that by process of elimination.
Me: Right. She's the teacher. And she's married to?
Him: I have no idea.
Me: Don't worry about it.
Him: I just know that Kelly is married to the really tall guy.
Me: Um... Oh boy.
Let's just say that there are more than a few really tall guys hanging around lately.
And I don't even know where to begin to try to describe my grandmother's eccentric psuedo adopted son/best friend friend Larry. Sigh... Anyone care for a banana? The mummers are still mumming.