Back to the parents. In the days leading up to their arrival, they started calling a lot, and I had a feeling they were going to be very "involved" aka smothering. I've been told that Asian parents are a lot like Jewish parents -- frugal, doting and very proactive in their childrens' education. My parents rarely call and have always let me do my own thing, one reason why I grew up to be a self-sufficient little lady. But I knew Mrs. B was slightly torn about RedSun not dating a nice Asian girl: "I don't mind, but if I had my druthers..."
The Parents arrived with several gifts in tow: a box of chocolates, fruit bars, trail mix, Bed Bath and Beyond coupons, moon cakes, rice pockets (pronounced: "Doong"). All seemed well when I met his mother and she hugged me rather than shook my outstretched hand. Mr. B -- who has a very heavy southern accent -- came across as jovial and easy going. RedSun later told me he could sense his father's approval. As the weekend progressed, Mr. B and I formed a bond over our love of coffee and sweets first thing in the morning.
Within a day, Mr. and Mrs. B revamped our fridge to include a highly organized system of fresh produce and other properly arranged foods. They continually fretted over RedSun's recent weight gain and his predisposition to high blood pressure *Cue disapproving glances toward RedSun's midsection* They also bought me a pair of headphones after overhearing me tell RedSun I needed a new set. And they bought paper towels. And a new mini garbage for our bathroom (a South Dakota mate puked in ours one week previous).
Only in rare moments did I feel annoyed: once, when RedSun's mom rearranged the kitchen -- "But where do you put the wet dishes??" *disapproving glance* Of course, everything was put back in place the moment they left for Memphis. Next - the parents' desire to eat semi-authentic Asian food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I can only take about one or two Asian meals a week before I peace out. We managed to find a middle ground. Lastly - and this one really isn't her fault - Mrs. B reminded me of a former high school boyfriend's mother, who once "stumbled on" an important diary we kept, and then proceeded to read its passages. Both moms came across as very smiley and friendly, but the friendliness always makes me wonder whether they approve or it's all a facade to keep their baby boys happy.
On a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being the Manson family and 5 being the Cleavers, I'd rate the Bing Peeps a 4.
