MEETING THE PARENTS

Heading up to Canberra to meet the ol' girlfriend's Dad this weekend.

I was looking forward to it...until she emailed me saying that "he's a bit like Chuck Norris". My response:

!!!!

Like Chuck Norris? Like Chuck Norris?! That’s ten times worse than anything I could have possibly imagined in my worst nightmares.

*chokes*

I see it all now.

He’ll greet me at the front door, towering over me, barrel chested and wearing an unbuttoned flannelette shirt. He’ll put down the axe he just used to cut down several giant trees before reaching out and giving me a handshake that instantly crushes my hand. A shotgun blast to the face will seem merciful by comparison.

Before I’ve had time to recover he’ll give me a tour of the house, his booming voice shattering my ear drums as he shows me trophies of giant animals he’s killed with his bare hands.

He’ll invite us to lunch, serving us both bowls of burning hot coals smothered in Tabasco sauce, with Guatemalan insanity peppers ground in for extra flavour. If I show even a hint of discomfort at the meal he’s prepared, he’ll instantly kill me with a sharp stare for daring to show such weakness in his presence.

I’ll ask to use the bathroom. He’ll tell me the nearest outhouse can only be reached via an 11 kilometer trek through snow and rocky terrain, and that real men make the journey bare foot, and often, because real men have high fibre diets.

And the whole time I’ll be trapped. Trapped in Canberra with no possibility of a quick escape.

Oh, I’ve seen it all.

*Sobs quietly*



UPDATE!!!!

My girlfriend responds: "I think he'll like you."

Well, that makes me feel much better then.