mom Steve, Steve mom
Should I warn him about all the jarred foods in the fridge? They're not ready for consumption, they're still fermenting. I believe those science projects have been soaking in vinegar since my 13th birthday slumber party, which created a rubberneck in my kitchen when Megan opened the fridge for a Squirt. Forunately the suitor isn't a nose pincher to ethnic foods, he's New York like that. And like a true New Yorker he likes his shoes. I hope he doesn't mind Mister Roger-ing every time he enters, shoes off, slippers on and a cardigan will be necessary for half of the house. My mother has blocked the vents in the rooms we don't use. Late at night you can hear the tin foil fluttering, as well as garage door from my younger brother coming home late. You'll hear a wizz in the bathroom but the sink never goes on. There's a good chance to we'll wake up to bigbucks holiday lattes on our nightstand, a literal Folders Christmas commercial. But no food griddled, over-easy or toasted. There will always be white rice with purple beans in the cooker. The cooker, unlike the heat, will always be on. So will the guest bathroom radio, it's our security system in case burglars try and enter. Celine Dion should ward them off.
My dad smiles when he can't answer you, understand you or is tired. Asking both my parents for gas money separately works. As they hand over the $20 they will ask why you don't ever ask the other. Like my stepdad's daughter, I just smile. I call my stepdad 'dad.' He calls me 'candy-ya.' We keep the sodas, Prego and 20lb rice next to the fertizlier in the garage. My parents will love that he gardens, they will ask him how to grow sesame leaves, 'pah,' and cabbage, more science project essentials. They will show him my violin and piano and then say, 'Can you believe we purchased the instruments for her, most rent it, yet she never played.' He will shame me not because he's being polite in agreement but because he still rents his cello. Some photographs, blue ribbons, and DVD player manuals might be pulled from shelves. The clock needs resetting every year. Andy programmed radio stations in the car but they still seek manually. Andy wears Eminem hoodies and 'hella, tight and sick' are used like prepositions but after his friends leave from a day of PS2 he'll shower to Bob Seger.
We eat dinner together by meeting each other at this Japanese restaurant that doesn't give us menus because they know what to bring. You will have to break stereotypes and show them that you never order California rolls and love yellow tail. They will try and keep you away from my yellow tail by showing you to your room and me to mine, aka my mom's. I will have to be mindful of this before I come home smelling of smoke. Andy will ask you if you mind that he lights up a cigarette in the car and you'll say no and tell him that you always cough in car rides. I'll tell Andy to put it out and you'll insist that it's fine, that you're just cold. An east coast born-bred guy is cold in California. I'll borrow the car and make sure that we'll get to Zagat noted yummies in SF, a Golden Gate Park adjacent museum, meeting my girlfriends, we'll skip K-town but not J-town, a coastal drive, Blockbuster and twizzlers, thrift stores w/ actual thrift prices, Tahoe, oxtail soup, sheets of seaweed, a lot of red on the table, Costco Christmas cookies, no Earl or Chamomile instead Ginseng and Jasmine and a family that's going to study you the way Megan studied my fridge but that's because I've never been sure of bringing anyone home before and they're thrilled to meet you. It should be a good time Steve-ya.