Going back in time, to when my husband and I first met.
Since our first date was such a success, he messaged me the next day.
Due to the fact that we met so close to Valentine’s Day, I already had plans on that day. No, they were not with someone else, instead, I had promised a friend’s son to make him a dinosaur card box for school. I had planned to do it in “paper mache”, and as soon and I mentioned it to him, he was willing to help. This of course, entailed having a stranger in my house, until who knows when.
So he came over, and I went straight to the point of working on this project, I didn’t have time to waste. We set everything up in my little art studio area that I had at that time, and so we begun. Cutting paper, cutting cardboard, creating the structure first and then making the mix. He arrived around 6:00pm that day, and let me tell you, 11 hours of work weren’t enough. Yes, that’s right, 11 hours of paper mache, countless teas, and lots of conversations.
During the time that we met, I had rented out my house and had moved in with my mother; little did he know that she’d be popping by at any time. And here I was hoping she had a long night at work…
For my luck, I had already given him a general introduction about my family. Where we had lived in the past, where we are from, etc. Not much later after he arrived, so did my mother, and of course noticing a vehicle outside, she came downstairs to see what I was doing, or who I was with. Yes, my husband met my mother on our second date. Instead of her coming downstairs, noticing I had company and leaving, she made herself a coffee, and sat down beside him on the floor where we were doing our project. Not at all an intimidating act (sarcasm)…
She didn’t decide on staying there a few minutes, instead she hung out for a few hours. In case you weren’t aware, my mother is a night owl, so a late night was not about to be a problem. So his interview begun. Questions were coming out left, right and centre. Personal questions, open ended questions, you name it, they were coming out. Just when I thought he would have had a perfect opportunity to run, he didn’t. He stayed, and calmly answered it all, even made conversation, continued to drink tea and helped me while answering questions. I was slightly starting to feel left out, and of course, I gave my mom MANY looks for her to stop, and all I was accomplishing was her getting mad. One thing I know for sure is; do NOT make mum mad in front of him! For those who are NOT aware, Latina mothers can be protective of their children, and Colombian mothers, well those are an entirely different breed! My husband likes to call it the “Colombian Fury”. It literally is just like it sounds.