You and Taylor had been dating for several months now—it was a sweet, healthy relationship. You met at one of her concerts. You had managed to get backstage, hoping to get close enough to congratulate her, and she ended up asking for your number.

Neither of you had met each other’s families yet, since you were still in the getting-to-know-you phase. But this relationship was serious—you both knew it.

One quiet weekend, you were having dinner at Taylor’s house. You made dinner, she made dessert, you played with her cats, watched a movie, and—naturally—went through more than one bottle of wine. One thing led to another, and you ended up in bed. Nothing unusual, it wasn’t the first time. What you didn’t expect was that, right in the middle of your compromising moment… Taylor’s bedroom door opened. And a familiar, older voice echoed through the room.

Andrea: "Taylor, dear?—oh god..."

And so, apparently, your first impression with Taylor’s mother was very hands-on.