prev meet the parents next
2001-06-26 | 4:48 p.m.

I'm supposed to be cleaning house now because Duff's parents are coming on Thursday. Every time they come I get a small burst of energy and then it peters out and I quickly arrive at "Ah, fuck it." When I was a teenager I thought everybody had weird families because I had never met anyone who didn't. And I never had a strong sense of what the Midwest was all about until I lived there, because frankly---and I know how terrible this sounds, but it's just the darn truth---I barely remembered that it was there. To me, the country was the West Coast and the East Coast, and never the twain shall freak, as my friend Beowulf used to say.

The thing I like about Duff's parents, who were born and bred in the Midwest, is that they never criticize me to my face, which is more than I can say about my last mother-in-law. They are also generous at gift-giving time, though I think that's mostly Duff's Dad, and they are good about including me in family pictures and events, though that is mostly Duff's Mom. It's smart for them to treat me well because, let's face it, I am the mother of their grandchildren.

But I KNOW I must get on their nerves. I'm just all wrong for them. We're so different. I'm sure they wonder what Duff sees in me. I wonder myself, even though I know the answer. (And no, it's not because I'm the mother of his children. At least not usually.) Fundamentally, morally, we're working from the same rulebook. More or less. But there is a hell of a lot of wiggle room separating us. They are traditional, conservative, and � is there a word that means traditional-conservative? Okay, how about disciplined. They get up early, exercise, keep their house well-maintained, invest wisely, watch their fat intake, etc. My friend Stephen always talks about "growing up in the Protestant refrigerator" and that is exactly what I'm talking about. Meanwhile, I am the native Californian child of a lapsed Catholic: Undisciplined, emotional, moody, spoiled, untraditional, and liberal. They are "a place for everything, and everything in its place." I hoard things and stack things until they spill onto the floor and then I stare at them and think, "Sheesh, what a mess." There are ways in which we are different that I can't even begin to comprehend because I don't even notice them. I'm oblivious to what is important to them.

Still, as I mentioned, they are nicer to me than my last mother-in-law, who made me so crazy that I swore this time around, I wouldn't even try to get these people to like me. Why bother? I mean I really pulled out all the stops for the last one, and it did me no good whatsoever. I'm not usually so � what's the word? scheming, or Machiavellian, but this time I told myself not to invest the energy, because there was no chance of them ever liking me. Just turn off the charm. Turns out it was the right tack to take. And I'm glad that Duff's brother's new wife is right up their alley, so Duff's mother has someone to bond with and confide in. And I have my Mom, who---I was reminded today---has never taken one whit of advice from me in her entire life.

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