Dear Jealous Mother of any Man I Have Ever Dated

For Starters…All I ever wanted was to be your friend…and I tried desperately.

Yes, your son is dating me.  But not at gunpoint.  He’s a willing participant who signed up for something called “lots of hot sex in a committed, loving relationship that will hopefully god-willing lead to marriage.”  So quit making me feel like I’m a criminal.

My big question to you is…why are you so overzealous and jealous?  How has your motherly charm turned so utterly smotherly sour?  I am silently begging (well really cursing) you to STOP.

No, I’m not on drugs (only the legal kind), I don’t chain smoke.  I feed your son on a regular basis…albeit cheese, crackers, olives, dry cereal, and beer.   I have a real job…in fact a master’s degree from an accredited university…not one of those mail-order places.  My dad doesn’t pay my rent OR my text overages.  I know how to clean real silver…and how to make a real Jell-O mold.  I adore your son…and I’m not mooching off him.  I promise he loves good booze, wine, and entertainment as much as me.  I brush my teeth three times a day…which is two more times than him!  I only fart when I’m home alone…whereas your son farts consistently home alone with me.   Also, his new shirts and his new trendy eyeglasses you oooogle over…those were my ideas…not his!  And that bracelet he gave you…I picked it out…in fact I reminded him it was Mother’s Day!  So, in NO way shape or form do you oooh and aaah…then give him all the credit.  Yes, you raised him right…but he still needs mucho training.

Insecure Mother….Please do not say the following things to ME (otherwise known as the evil American girlfriend, EAG):

1. “You know…you don’t know him like I know him.” (Lady…when was the last time you saw him naked?  Exactly.)

2. “One of these days I’m going to tie him to a chair in my house so he can’t leave me.” (I don’t make this crap up.)

3. “He and his brother are just so so so close…it’s shame they don’t live closer.” (Thanks for the “double shot of guilt trip over ice.”)

4. “You know, traveling to America makes me very nervous.  In fact…I get hives when I have to leave him behind.” (Yeah, life sucks in this deserted “Day-after-Tomorrow” country called the U.S. of A.  How can the rest of us stand living here?)

5.  “Hair salons are SUCH a waste of money.  You know, I cut his hair until he was 18.”  (Eer…not a tradition I’m going to continue…sorry.)

6.  “You know, I just can’t believe you (EAG) don’t like lamb and goat cheese…those are my son’s two FAVORITE foods.”  (Yes, the world must be coming to an end.)

Insecure Mother….Please do not say the following things to HIM:

1.  Within 45 minutes of meeting me…”When are you moving back to England? And WHY aren’t you moving back to England?”  (Wow, that must be called classy hospitality.)

2.  While trying to establish yourself as the alpha female in the room… “Honey, what was your favorite themed birthday cake I made from scratch for you growing up?” (P.S.  I have cake pans…may only use them for dog bowls, but who cares?)

3.  While clutching your son with tears in the doorway…“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” when we were simply running errands for an extra 30 minutes while visiting you.

4.  After witnessing your son split an appetizer and entrée with me at a restaurant…”That’s NOT enough food for you!  Honey, you need more?”  (Don’t worry….he’s not starving…we do this all the time when you’re not around and the world NOR his bowel movements are coming to an end.)

5.  At the family dinner table…”Honey, you’re not living in America, you’re just visiting.”  (Whose apartment is he sleeping in then??)

6.  “Now that you’ve met her (EAG), I worry you’re never coming back.”  (Honestly, this hurts so much I can’t even write a joke.)

In closing, don’t criticize my religion, my beliefs, numerous other topics that shall remain nameless, the foods I eat, or how much I eat.  Don’t attempt to force feed me lamb, liver, fruitcake, or anything covered in gross sauces.  (There’s a reason I look this good.)  Yeah, sorry I don’t cook like a Paula Deen obsessed-southern woman…but the reality is…I’m trying to avoid heart disease and diabetes.

No, I don’t expect you to be my shopping buddy, my BFF on facebook, or even to remember my birthday.  What I do expect is kindness, respect, and gratitude that I have adored your son.  And something called “support.”  Which unfortunately, I’ll never receive, despite politely bending over backwards to gain your approval.  (I’ve shed more tears over this than a gay man at Les Mis.)

If you continue acting this way…I suggest your watch Dr. Phil…followed by Dr. Oz to gain some real perspective on this smotherly psychological condition….which I hope (for your son’s case) is NOT hereditary for any of his offspring.

And the next time I visit (if ever)…I may just ask you…”Hey, do you need a xanax?”

“Cuz I got one upstairs.”

Signed,  the woman you ran off