So Demola met my mum…its time to meet the Fockers…uhm hmm, I'm doing the movie titles again, lol. This is sort a contrast though or is it an oxymoron, because my meeting Demola’s Mum was nothing like ‘Meeting the Fockers’…absolutely nothing like it.
I did mention in my last write up, that I don’t do parents especially mothers. Well, yeah I don’t because of what happened in the past. Honestly, I knew this would happen that is why I would always shove the meeting the parents idea, anytime Demola brought it up…even if he met my mum, I don’t have to meet his mum, sincerely I wasn’t too keen.
Lets go back in time…to 'em' 5 years ago, when I met Deji’s mum, oh my goodness, it was horrifying, would never forget that day. This is the low-down…I was just coming out of a serious relationship and honestly I didn’t want to date, wanted time off but I had met this dude at a friend’s wedding ceremony and he wouldn’t let me be…so I decided to give him a try right…his profile: buttered up, good looking, fancy foreign degrees, polished diction and a fantastic job!
Anyway, I was going to give Deji a chance but I wanted to do small 'shakara'. I would make him do my maths assignment from university, would ring him to come get me from school and sometimes drop me off. I literally made him work for time he saw me...lol. We had started getting a bit clingy or should I say ‘exclusive’. Apart from Deji being short, the other thing I REALLY did not like, was the fact that he still stayed at home with his parents. C’mon, he lived abroad and in his own apartment, he was there for the most of his adult years, he comes back to Nigeria and moves in with his parents, even when he has a good paying job…I mean the ‘brotha’ was working in an oil company…WHATS UP WITH THAT? It just sounds a bit quirky to me.
I bet you are wondering where does his mum come into all of this…well, he came to get from school one day and we decided to go chill at his place and it would be a good opportunity for me to meet his folks. So we get to his very luxurious home, immediately we drove in, I was thinking to myself 'what the hell have I gotten myself into?', so we go in and we see his parents, like the very polite and cultured Yoruba girl that I am {oh thank you very much…very very much}, I bend my knees and greet parents…his dad was polite but his mum almost snubbed me with a 'you are not good enough for my son look' but I ignored it and told myself, it was just in my head.
So Deji and I decided to go chill in his room…what was I thinking right? Anyway, we get into the room, just as we were about to settle in to a movie, his mum comes 'BANGING' on the door… yelling, 'Deji, open this door!, I say open this door!!….I know you have that girl in the room with you, you better open this door…!!.' Oh no she didn't, oh yeah she did…Deji wouldn't open the door, I was begging him, I didn’t want any trouble and I certainly didn't want to get his family in row. Deji then turns to me and says, it's because you are here with me that she's throwing a fit and screaming blue murder…its not the first time she's done this and I gave him a look of 'so why the hell did you bring me here?!'
After about 20 minutes, his mum leaves and I had to sneak out of the house. That was the beginning of my phobia for mothers, so you can only imagine how I would, soooo not want to 'officially' meet Demola’s mum. I had seen his mum on one or two of his family functions from a nice safe distance, hey you can't blame me after the 'Deji Fiasco'.
Demola then gives me an ultimatum…honestly I was ready to walk out of the relationship…cause I thought he wasn’t understanding and the fact that he emphasized meeting my mum and it was my turn to meet his…plzzzzzzzzzzzz, there are no specific ways of doing these things and what really was the rush?…I was being unnecessarily pressured.
Then I had a dream about meeting his mum and told my mum about it and she said it was about time I did meet his mum…there I am thinking what the fuss is? So I got up one day and drove to his mum’s, without any warning, I go up to her private TV room upstairs, I get on my knees and greeted her,’ Good afternoon ma’, she looks up at me and gives me the warmest hug I have had in a while and she smiles, saying, ‘good afternoon my dear’…it was like she had been expecting me (apparently she knew exactly who I was, that woman has an excellent memory for faces),…it was like the return of the prodigal son in the Bible. It felt so good!
Since then, we have been inseparable in every sense of the word; my mum I know sometimes gets jealous…lol! Don’t mind me, I like harassing my mum…I have a wonderful mother-in law to be…it seems God definitely answered my prayers!
Dunni
xoxo