Tonight I’m meeting D.’s mother.
We’re having dinner together in a couple of hours.
I’m a little nervous.
I put on my best shirt, tie, slacks, and jacket. Combed my hair and beard. Spritz on Tom Ford cologne. Brushed my teeth. And smoking one of my best cigars.
I imagine she’ll look like D., which is silly of course: D. is 6’3”, 200 pounds with a beard. I hardly think she’ll look like him really.
When you meet an in-law you always hope they like you. What I hope she sees is how much I love her son.