(no subject)
Operation: Lunch with the Mothers was a success!
The food was terrific. We went to Fujiyama, a Japanese steakhouse where they grill your food in front of you. I had edamame, shrimp, veggies and rice. The cook was entertaining, doing fancy tricks like spinning an egg on his spatula and then tossing it into the top of his cute padded hat.
The mothers discussed their respective jobs, families and pets. They seemed to hit it off pretty well and thank the stars, they didn't tag-team me about my lack of job or offspring. Whoo-hoo! There were a couple of points in the conversation where it seemed dangerously close, but each time I was saved by the timely arrival of the waitress. Thank you Japanese-steak-house Waitress lady, thank you with all my heart.
I was terribly nervous all day, cleaning the house and grooming myself in a near-panic state. The thing is, even as a grown woman, your mother holds a great and terrible power over you. No matter how old you get, your mom is the one person who can and will tell you what to wear, what she thinks of your job or lack thereof, significant other, that you should put on clean socks and wash behind your ears, that you need a haircut, and well, just about everything else. This is fine and I've reached a point where I can accept this. I get along well with my mom and I really value her advice and friendship. Mike's mom is also a fantastic lady, very loving and kind. However, the combined power of two mothers is a force to be reckoned with, an exponential increase of power. Lunch went well, but I still feel a residue of nervousness. I'm sure I'm just being silly though. After all, it's not like they're going to do some Transformers/Power Rangers 'by our powers combined' type of collaboration and take over my brain, right?
Right?
The food was terrific. We went to Fujiyama, a Japanese steakhouse where they grill your food in front of you. I had edamame, shrimp, veggies and rice. The cook was entertaining, doing fancy tricks like spinning an egg on his spatula and then tossing it into the top of his cute padded hat.
The mothers discussed their respective jobs, families and pets. They seemed to hit it off pretty well and thank the stars, they didn't tag-team me about my lack of job or offspring. Whoo-hoo! There were a couple of points in the conversation where it seemed dangerously close, but each time I was saved by the timely arrival of the waitress. Thank you Japanese-steak-house Waitress lady, thank you with all my heart.
I was terribly nervous all day, cleaning the house and grooming myself in a near-panic state. The thing is, even as a grown woman, your mother holds a great and terrible power over you. No matter how old you get, your mom is the one person who can and will tell you what to wear, what she thinks of your job or lack thereof, significant other, that you should put on clean socks and wash behind your ears, that you need a haircut, and well, just about everything else. This is fine and I've reached a point where I can accept this. I get along well with my mom and I really value her advice and friendship. Mike's mom is also a fantastic lady, very loving and kind. However, the combined power of two mothers is a force to be reckoned with, an exponential increase of power. Lunch went well, but I still feel a residue of nervousness. I'm sure I'm just being silly though. After all, it's not like they're going to do some Transformers/Power Rangers 'by our powers combined' type of collaboration and take over my brain, right?
Right?