Meet the fockers...

[katie1997]

anyone got any funny or dreadful in-law/meet the parents stories they want to share?

The first time I went to have dinner at a boyfriend's parents house (many years ago), they served spaghetti bolognese (!)

Which you'd think was difficult enough to try to eat in a civilised manner - except at the time, I was vegetarian. His mother helpfully suggested I pick the bits of meat out. It was torture. Her only alternative was to offer quiche, which you guessed it...had bits of ham in it (I didn't mention this, I just picked them out) :(

Disclaimer: apologies to the old skool/everyone on the forum if this has been done before.

[HonaloochieB]

15 years old and arrived at Eileen's house in Catford clad in my sub glam rockish finery.

Sparked up a Sobranie Cocktail cigarette a few yards from the house, keen to make an impression so I was. A black one at that.

Gave the door knocker a confident but respectful couple of raps and it was swiftly opened by a large man in a vest who in a testy sort of voice, asked me 'Yes'? I took this to be Eileen's Papa.

I gurgled something along the lines of 'Is Eileen in'? 'Yes she is' quoth the doorman.

I mustered a smile of some sort and tried to inform the basilisk that Eileen and I had arranged to go out that evening.

I was informed that Eileen was not available at this particular time, nor would ever be for 'the likes of you' and that I should 'feck off out of it'.

The door was slammed in my face and with such force the knocker bounced forward and touched the tip of my nose.

I slunk down the road (so far as my lowish platforms allowed me to slunk) and never has a black Sobranie Cocktail been less appropriate.

Every lug I took seemed to mock me and it was with heavy heart I returned home, the long way so as not to seem as if I'd been stood up or anything.

Good news was that the next week I met another gal of Irish stock through my mate Stan's bird.

But there lies another tale.

[Ted Max]

The only time I "met" Jemma Dawson's dad was when he came to collect his daughter from the cinema because I, a young looking 13, had been refused a ticket for the 15 certificate film I had asked Jemma to. Following this abject humiliation Jemma decided that rather than spend the rest of the afternoon with me (did I really suggest a visit to the Portait Gallery in recompense?) she'd like to go home now. Just as the condemned man is handed the bullets to load into the executioner's gun, I even had to lend her the 10p for the phone to call her father.

Mr Dawson didn't get out the car. Just threw the passenger car door open and through a broad smile told Jemma to "Get in". I learnt later he took her to Bar Italia for pizza and ice cream to celebrate his victory.

I trudged home, the three green pound notes and remaining 75p for our cinema tickets mocking me from the left pocket of my elastic-waisted baggy jeans. In a gesture of self-aggrandising romantic futility that would be repeated many times in spirit, if not in action, I slotted that money right between the plaster-cast eyes of the Guide Dog for the Blind chained to the railings outside Mags 'n' More.

Mr Dawson died a year later of a heart attack in the boardroom of his construction company. Jemma moved away, aged 15, to a boarding school that has since closed. The recipient guide dog was liberated from service later than you'd think. He sits in my back garden to this day, eyes turned ever upwards to the indifferent sky.

[Keef]

When I was about 15, I was on a music course in the easter holidays, and I was made aware that I'd caught the eye of a very pretty sax player (poor girl can' have had very good taste). Anyway, I got talking to her, and we agreed that I'd call her and we'd arrange a "date". So far so good!

At the end of the week, we played a concert, and her mother attended (don't think her dad was there). After the concert, I went over to her to say goodbye, and she, smiling, introduced me to her mother. I smiled and politely said hello, and her mum seemed to smile back in rather a friendly way. GAME ON thought I.

Anyway, I called the girl the next day (never was very good at playing it cool and making them wait). Basically, we managed a couple of phonecalls, but that was it, we never did go out. Basically her mum had taken one look at this long haired, leather jacket wearing 15 year old me, and reported back to dad, who had told my pretty saxophonist that she would not be seeing me.

A year or so later, my mate ended up going out with this girl (having done the honourable thing, and checked with me first - blokes who don't do this are scummers), they did end up having a quite a serious relationship, but my mate constantly reported ongoing battles with the dad.

Note to parents, if your teenaged daughter wants to play an instrument, you might want to avoid sax, as I had rather a lot of luck with saxophonists back in the day. They seem to like the less well turned out boys.

[Ted Max]

"Saxophonists are easy - and other tales"

There's the biog title sorted, Keef.

[Brendan]

I had known (or at least known of) Mr. Stuart for most of my life, what with him being a friend of my parents, chairman of the rotary club, volunteer at the church, scout leader and general fine upstanding man of the community and all. A kindly accountant by trade I always assumed that he would take news of my romantic involvement with Kate in his stride.

I was a little surprised when that day came. The day when he opened the door to the sight of my gormless grim. My surprise coming firstly from the fact that he was at home during the afternoon hours* and not at his office as I had expected and secondly from the pointed threats of very real physical violence which the mild mannered keeper of books spat at me before sending me speedily on my undignified way.

It may have been my disheveled appearance or perhaps that in my younger days I had acquired an unwarranted reputation as a bit of a wrong?un. Although on balance it was probably because I was buried hilt-deep in his daughter at the time.

*Me being nocturnally employed at the time.

[Brendan]

Oh welcome back Ted.

[david_carnell]

Never mind the in-laws, my own parents are bad enough.....

Aged about 17 I was dating a young lady who was from the local private girls school. She therefore had a car, and one evening after a date I managed to not only convince her to drive me home (despite the date being much closer to her home than mine) but also to come in. For a coffee, of course.

It was probably about 11:30 and my parents were safely tucked up in bed.

Our passions ignited by caffeine we were, in the American vernacular, making out on the sofa with me attempting to get beyond 2nd base when suddenly my father appears at the lounge door wearing nothing but a pair of unnecessarily small y-fronts to "investigate the noise" under the assumption he was being burgled. Never has a human hand been removed from under a blouse with such speed. Whether the poor girl was traumatised I never found out - I was too embarressed to ever see her again.

If we must do in-laws though, my ex girlfriends father, John, was a "character". The first time I met him he was on the tail end of his "self employeds, unemployeds and unemployables" Xmas lunch and of the course of the evening became so paralytically drunk that myself and my girlfriend had to literally carry him home from the pub. I always felt I had the upper hand in the early days of that relationship. Until I touched up his wife accidentally in a cab ride home one night.

But that's another story......

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

Oh joy unconfined - The Max is back!

[Ladymuck]

I'll never forget the first time I met my father-in-law. I know he didn't! (Rest in Peace Mr. Dad-in-Law). I knocked at his door, he answered and I burst out laughing and carried on doing so for a good 30 seconds. I think I pointed too. It's just that he had exactly the same humongous, bulbous, and ski-slope-type-nose as his son. I couldn't believe it. I didn't think it was possible that there should be two in this world.

Fortunately, Dad-in-Law had a wonderful sense of humour and we ended up being chums till the day he died.

[Ted Max]

On Friday nights Hayley Chester's dad would pick her up from the city centre's under 18's disco, and as many of us as possible would fit into his Volvo estate and cadge a ride back to our sleepy neighbourhood.

This was in the early days of Channel4's American Football coverage, and Mr Chester was much taken with the antics of The Fridge, a man whose bulk and related physical embellishments he would refer to without abashment.

We quickly learnt that this lack of social inhibition also applied to his attitude to Sally's love life. Every week, the 14 year old Hayley would be asked in stentorian tones by her dad if she had got lucky yet, and if not why not? Blunt enquiries were made of the male liftees if we were in fact made of sufficiently heterosexual fibre to satisfy Mr Chester's daughter.

The resulting silence would last until the journey ended.

As a result (and if Mr Chester had been of a more sophisticated manner then I'd agree with you that this was surely his intention) Hayley never did get lucky, at least not with any of us fellow Volvo-sharers, given the sure and public embarrassment that we knew would follow.

These days, Mr Anderson can often be seen walking his obese black labrador, Douglas, down to his local. It is not known if his flirtation with American Football proved more enduring that his relationship with his only daughter, who moved to Australia, leaving no forwarding address.

[Moos]

Hello Ted.

Brendan, have you been taken over by the spirit of BBW?

I can't talk much about my in-laws. Suffice to say my other half reads the forum. I will only share that my mother-in-law once commented in passing over dinner that all English women look like horses.

"Please may I have some peas", I said.

[Ted Max]

Hi Brendan, Moos and PGC. This thread has provoked enough memories (some of them true) to pass a pleasant lunch break back on the Forum.

[Jah Lush]

Good to have you back Ted.

[Ted Max]

"Please may I have some peas: how I came to love the Germans" is a sweetly restrained memoir of a cross-cultural relationship that will have you nodding in sympathy, guffawing in acknowledgement, and weeping in spite of yourself. A sure fire stocking filler. ?6.99.

[*Bob*]

I remember going to (what would become) my first girlfriend's house to collect her for our first date, to be invited in by her father, though a doorway to the left and.. *click*.. the door was shut behind me.

All I could see were books, a leather-topped desk and a big scary Dad Face. 'The talk' was thus issued.

Still copped a feel on the way home though.. round the back of the church. How d'ya like them apples, Dad?

[Brendan]

Moos Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> Hello Ted.

>

> Brendan, have you been taken over by the spirit of

> BBW?

I think I may have. Was just about to post something on another thread about guns and bombs and shit. I will try to keep my head about me.

I?m not sure about any specific nationality looking particularly equine but I have found that women who spend too much time in the company of horses start to take on their characteristics.

[Moos]

To be honest, with some of the nonsense that's being spouted about German people at the moment due to World Cup fever, she's entitled to her prejudices, I won't say her Neigh.

However, I don't love ALL the Germans, Ted, only 1 and three-quarters.

[KidKruger]

"Vicar's Daughter"

Ended up back at Helen's house having progressed rather quickly from a Birthday kiss for me in the pub to some petting on the beach to fairly hasty petting and snogging in the kitchen of her family home.

I knew her parents as she'd been girlfriend of a local mate of mine some time before (but we'd always had a soft spot for one another) and had been round her place loads of times as part of the wider social group we were all in. Her Father was Vicar of the church next door to their house, a decent guy to be fair.

Anyways, I lifted her up on the counter by the cooker and as she wrapped her legs around me and we made up for a couple of years of admiring glances not acted upon.

It was dark as her Father tripped over the other couple we'd dragged back with us (her girlfriend Rachel had brought her fella too) who had by now started mating on the floor, though Helen and I weren't aware they'd got THAT far. As he fell into the kitchen after switching on the light he hadn't given me or Helen time to put her boobies back in her blouse nor the other chap on top of Rachel time to re-install his member back in his jeans.

So basically he got an eyeful of what must have seemed a proper student orgy. BUT the weirdest thing was he was entirely apologetic and backed-out of the room most graciously, excusing himself by saying he had heard something downstairs and thought he'd better check, there had been no intention to interrupt, please forgive etc etc. Better still, he said he wouldn't disturb us again, which, to us four, was the total green light for resuming pre-disturbance affections. After reassurances from Helen that she reckoned he probably hadn't gone to get a sword or shotgun the light was off in an instant.

Top bloke !!

[SteveT]

I met my first inlaws in their huge detached gaff in Kent, the sort of place I would normally only get access to, by servicing the boiler.

When I was announced, her father just held out his limp clammy hand and grimaced at me as I clasped it and then he said "do come in 'old boy'".

I was always referred to by him as 'old boy' it was four years later before he actually spoke my name,

his wife was rather more practical and realistic, she pronounced my name because she saw me as an asset to her daughter.

We had very weird reactions from Julia's friends too, one of whom said we came from two different planets.

She was frightfully (fraytfully) middle class and genteel, I was a young outspoken working class macho yobbo from a northern town with an accent, and these 'special' male friends of hers, found my presence difficult to cope with.

We made better progress with people who met us as a couple, rather than the long established male friends of hers.

One of her 'arty' male friends asked if we had pet names for each other,

I replied without hesitation yes I call her "c%nt-c%nt", he coloured a deep scarlet to his hair line, I had appalled and shocked him and laughed out loud. The possibility of a deep meaningful relationship died that day in embryo.

I was hardly a sophisticated man of letters, more a raw-boned man of trade going into the world to make his fortune.

She always said she was polishing me for someone else, little did I know how accurate that statement was.

She became pregnant but had to get a termination because of her heart condition, she was very remorseful after the abortion as she felt pregnancy was the best thing she had ever achieved in her life, yet life conspired to take the new being away from her so she felt a failure.

This lead to her depression and within a year she collapsed and died.

I was twenty eight and she was in her early thirties, she was never the same after the termination, she was somehow pre-occupied and slightly distant, and the best thing that ever happened to me was when I went that day to fix her cooker.

I had never had a sexual encounter with any customer until that night, I stayed and never left.

6 months after her father allowed himself to speak my name,

his daughter and the greatest love of my life died of a massive heart attack, and soon after her father died too,

but her mother and I, kept in touch throughout her life for thirty odd years.

It took four years before I was psychologically free enough to pursue another serious relationship.

I had not been out of circulation, indeed quite the opposite applied, I had been through the most promiscuous phase in my life.

I was being pursued by her single friends, and colleagues, and had I not been in such a state I might have enjoyed it, but it was not the case at all, it was as if I was running from my own depression.

Sex, alongside the chase, was the only thing which prevented me from feeling morose over my loss.

It was a little over four and a half years before I indulged in sexual activity with another customer, whom we had sold a dodgey cooker to.

I went along one evening to put it right and fix the new thermostat.

She asked if I would like a gin and tonic, so we got chatting and she started to question me about my role in the business, and then I said I was a partner.

I waited for a couple of days then donned my poncho and boots and looked like a sawn off version

of "the man with no name" but without the ass.

I was the ass, with the accent of Arthur Seaton from 'Saturday Night and Sunday Morning' I knocked on her door.

I asked "fancy a drink ducks", and she said 'I have to take all these tyles off the wall', as she had tradesmen coming.

I asked her what tools did she have, I then grabbed a hammer and chisel, and savagely crashed into them, and they dropped to the ground, as soon as they were all off, about ten minutes later, I replaced the tools in the box and said "lets go". She said 'I'll have to clean this up'.

"Hang on, you said you had to get the tyles off, not spring clean the gaff" "you can do that anytime".

She laughed, relieved the tyles had gone, and off we went,

I stayed that night, and we married two years later.

[Moos]

test bump

[????]

Is that ok with the midwives? ;-)

[KidKruger]

I was seeing a girl a while then it was timeto meet her parents, whe'd told me abot her Dad who wsounded a bit eccentric and also a bit of a control freak within the confines of his own home.

Just before we entered her parents house she said "whatever you do, do NOT mention the words 'tea' and 'fish'", she ushered me in.

This struck me rather strange and already I was feeling rather boxed in and wary.

There in the large hallway of the family house the Father had his easel out with an array of oil crayons, pastels and papers, all spilling out of an old fishing tackle box as he fumbled through his next masterpiece.

I said "Hello Ted, I see you have a fine eye for art. That's a fine stash of art materials, do you go fishing at all, that's a great tackle box. Any chance of a cup of tea ?"

Dagger looks from girlfriend.

Turned out to be a very eccentric bloke but one of best humans I ever met.

[????]

You went out with Ted Max's daughter?

[KidKruger]

shhhh...