“I said I was a lesbian, Mom, not a thespian. You can stop crying.”

Tomorrow night The Princess and I are going out for a ‘meet The Littlest Princess’ almost fiancee’s parents’ dinner. I’m sure they’ll be nice people, and I expect we’ll have a great time. I’ll be careful not to make too many obscenely dirty or horrendously morbid jokes. I won’t even accidentally on purpose have the parents overhear me asking The Littlest if the ointment took care of everything.

As far as I can tell, between the 6 of us there will be:

• 3 men
• 3 women
• 3 people under the age of 35
• 3 people over the age of 55
• 5 Jews
• 6 brunettes
• 3 doctors
• 2 guitarists
• 2 bassists
• 3 singers
• 6 bleeding heart Liberals
• 1 lactose allergy
• 3 potheads
• 1 nicotine addict
• 2 shoe addicts
• 2 chocolate addicts
• 6 foodies

Should be good. There’s no reason for them to be, but I think I’ll really enjoy it if The Littlest and his gal are incredibly nervous. Like, fidgety, laugh too loud, sweating through the jacket nervous. And then they’ll have to do the whole thing again with The Littlest’s mom and stepfather!

“Yes Steven, aliens are responsible for the crop circles in your pants. And no, do not post pictures of them on Facebook.”