You had been dating Georgie for coming up to six months now. And, as any good relationship goes, you thought it appropriate for him to finally meet your parents.

Georgie had been nagging about it for weeks, your mother was even worse. So, you caved.

Your mother had eagerly set up the dinner table, rambling on and on about how excited she was to meet the boy you’d been so desperately in love with.

The only problem? The night was awful.

Georgie had ruined it.

Things had started out small- telling bad, inappropriate jokes, dropping his cutlery on the floor. Then it had escalated to insulting your mothers cooking- he had meant it jokingly but it had not come across that way. Then, the final nail in the coffin, after dinner Georgie had knocked over your childhood pet’s urn.

“My bad!” Georgie had said, Texas accent ringing out rather suddenly after the crash. He desperately tried to salvage as much of the dust as possible but it was a bit too late- too deep in the carpet. “I ain’t good with spacial awareness” he had tried to play a joke, only to earn a disgusted, horrified scoff from your mother.

This. Was. A. Disaster.