Everyone Loves a Boston Girl

It’s funny how no matter what, your parents are your parents, and when you hear about their pasts it kind of creeps you out. My mom basically made me feel like the biggest loser in the world the other day. We were talking about when she met my dad, which was coincidentally a few blocks down the street from where I live, at a bar that no longer exists. She said, “I think it was a Friday…no, maybe Wednesday…Tuesday? Saturday night was date night so it couldn’t have been that…I don’t remember…we used to go out every night of the week when we were your age.” Um, really Mom? “Well maybe not Sunday; actually no, Sunday had the best happy hours, so we were always out…I guess Monday nights we had to do laundry.”

So yeah, maybe times were different, but for some reason, it annoys me that my mom was such a party animal, while I go out like 2 nights a week. She also claimed that the night she met my dad, she walked with him to his car, and when she saw it was a convertible she then decided she’d go on a date with him. I said “Um did you guys drive drunk?” And she says, “I never drove, my roommate did.” So basically yeah. Are you even supposed to tell your children that, ever?

Lately my mom says the randomest things that absolutely shock me. I can’t even bring myself to talk about what she said about guys and girls having “sleepovers.” Growing up, I always figured my mom and dad must have been totally boring 20-somethings who never did a bad thing in their lives. My mom is such a mom and I would argue my dad to be bordering nerdy (OK, not bordering; he’s really nerdy, but in a super cute dad kind of way). They somehow raised me to be what I think is probably too much of a good girl, even though I now have the feeling my mom was anything but good. I was deceived for so long. I guess that’s some good parenting right there.