Fathoms Below

It has happened again.

Google Jedi mind tricks and you just might find my mother's face over there.

From the way she's graciously accepted Charming Calvin into the fold and included him in family gatherings, you'd expect that she has some slight inkling about our unconventional relationship. Eventhough I've never breathed a word to confirm or deny. That hasn't stopped my mother from practically adopting Calvin. To cap it off, my mother even suggested I bring him for a wedding dinner as my plus-one.

She knows!

At least that's what regular folks would think. But while I'm still reeling over the bizarre suggestion to have two fellas attend a church wedding together, my mother suddenly turns the tables on me again by pestering me to get married. To a girl.

Obviously she hates complacency.


Okay. What's her score now?
You see, a friend of mine just started a fledgling relationship and already her boyfriend has started dropping loaded hints that he wants her to move in. After only a month. Talk about fast and furious from zero to hundred. Commitment-phobe he certainly isn't but the shocking speed of the engagement is giving my friend just the wee bit of jitters.

So when I briefly mentioned the brisk pace of her relationship's progress, my mother suddenly chips in with a surprising comment.

Mother : Good for him. At least this fella takes a chance. You should follow his example. Make a move instead of waiting forever.
Paul : Huh?
Mother: Don't think so hard. Don't overanalyze. Make a move.
Paul : And who should I make a move on?
Mother : With a girl. Any girl. You know so many.
Paul : And you seriously think I'm the kinda guy who waits forever without trying?
Mother : Yes. Waiting isn't going to net you that girl.
Paul : And you think I don't know that?

Good God. She's preaching to the freaking choir!

Doesn't she know her own son? I'm not particularly well known around these parts for my Buddha-like patience.

I see something I want and I go after it with a mindless vengeance. Seriously, I'm the sort crazed, drooling stalkers are made of. I see a guy I like, I zero in and I hound him till he accepts me - or at least till he gets a restraining order. I'm devilishly persistent that way. Sitting around twiddling my thumbs waiting for providence to arrive isn't my style.

I'm more the kind who'll travel far and wide to find providence and drag it kicking and screaming ( in chains! ) home.

And my mother thinks I'm dragging my heels?