My mum, as far as I know it, is one of the most understanding and open minded mothers I know (and trust me, I've known quite a fair bit of mothers). My mum is a big proponent of "trust" and "knowing your limits". Very, very fierce when we were growing up but the moment I turned 14, never once I felt that my self worth and privacy was being compromised or infringed by my mother. She trusted me and she made me understand my limits and in turn, I grew up to be a responsible, fairly well behaved kid and I understood the value of trust.
My limits were simple: You can do anything you want, as long as it does not bring shame to your family. I wouldn't say say that I am a good son, but I never gave her any reason to worry. And I think that is the best thing you can give your parents while growing up, don't you think so? A peace of mind is priceless and much less tedious to attain than say, good grades. Besides, tell me how Pythagoras Theorem helped you to get laid?
Alright, I am digressing into the usual territory but my point is, my mum's understanding, and open mindedness is something that I truly appreciate and it is present in my formative years from pre teen, to an adult now. Which is why I am dumbfounded when my mum flipped out at Harold when he decided to bring his girlfriend of six months back home for dinner to meet the family.
"Aren't you too young to have a girlfriend?" my mum raised her voice when Harold told her the news a couple of weeks back.
"Mum, he is 21. Stop it. In some countries, at that age he could already be a father of four," I said in his defense.
"Or if I am a mat rep and my wife is a minah, " Harold joked.
We both laughed. My mum however wasn't the very least amused.
"Where did you pick her up?" my mum asked, face stern.
"Get to know. Not pick up. She is not a piece of clothing you pick up in a departmental store," Harold corrected her.
"Oh? Defending her already? You chose a girl over your own mother?" my mum sniffed.
"Oh my god," I said, covering my face with both of my palms.
"I am the one who gave birth to you, who brought you into this world and yet you pick a girl you barely know over me?" my mum continued, not missing a beat.
"Mum, stop it! Where is this drama coming from?!" Harold said, exasperated.
"It's in there all along," I said, face still covered.
"I have not even brought the girl home and you are already reacting like this. How is any of your sons going to get married with this kind of attitude from you? And then you complain when we don't bring girls back and bemoan over and over again about how you are not lucky enough to see your sons getting married and being a grandmother," Harold said.
"That is very true. I brought two, two girls home, and yet she wasn't the very least happy," I chipped in.
"Shut up Harry! One of them is not even a real girl!" my mum chided me, fork pointing in my direction. "Is she a virgin?" my mum asked.
Harold chocked on his grape juice.
A "yes" reply would be followed by a "How do you know? You have slept with her already haven't you?" and a "no" reply would be followed by a "How do you know? You have slept with her already haven't you?" Smart woman.
"I'm not bringing her home okay? Happy?" Harold said, giving up.
"I didn't say anything. It is your decision," my mum said, a tinge of relief in her voice.
"I'm just going to elope somewhere one of these days and get married and you won't even know about it," Harold threatened.
"You wouldn't dare honey," my mum said sweetly, smiling and clearing the table away.