Tuesdays with Morrie, I mean, Saturday with Joyce

There comes a time in every relationship when you have to take the next step. You know, to take all those stories about growing up and go right to the source. So this weekend, after much discussion, I met my boyfriend's mother.

I had been wanting to meet her before we even started dating because I'd heard so much about her. Elon has more then a few jokes about his mother and I was curious to see where the character stops and the real woman begins.

But there was some apprehension on my part, too. He's an only child. She is a single mother. I've seen the Nature Channel. I know how protective those mama bears are over their cubs! Not to mention that he's black and I'm apparently the white devil. Joyous.

So on Saturday Elon and I got on the bus that went from my apartment in Greenpoint through Wiliamsburg, Bed Stuy where he grew up, and finally, Crown Heights. It was kind of like getting a scenic little tour of his childhood, but I could see him getting more pensive the closer we got to her house. And he started humming an old black spiritual which added an interesting soundtrack.

We got to her apartment and as soon as she greeted me I saw the resemblance. Elon may be many things, but adopted is definitely not one of them. I got a big hug and thrown right into her bosom. There are worse places to be. And as soon as I heard her laugh, I knew they had spent some time together.

We finally decided on sushi for dinner. She had trouble with the chopsticks so he gave her a lesson which was slightly adorable. We talked about my boyfriend growing up, and how she has kicked more then a few asses in her time to protect her son, proper language, and the American way. Nothing like telling a small girl about all the ass whopping you've done to make her quake in her boots a bit. But like the little Pit bull I've been described to be, I held my ground. I also found out my boyfriend was a smartass growing up. For some reason, I’m not surprised.

The conversation was interesting. I always felt I had to be two steps ahead as his mother is prone to making this very pensive face where you can't figure out if she's about to be mad or break into laughter. As a result, I felt like for everything I said, I had to have a joke and a save prepared. It was like a Choose Your Own Adventure conversation.

Soon the time came for me to go to the bathroom. I had been dreading this. As I returned to the table, they looked quickly at me and their laughter ceased.

"What were you talking about?" I asked innocently.
"Go on, tell her, baby," his mother said.
"Tell her what?" Elon responded, with a little smile.
"Don't make me tell her myself," his mother said, her voice gaining that authoritative mother tone.

Turns out they were talking about me. His mother said that she liked me because I stick up for myself. I guess instead of preparing her baby for a strong black woman he got a strong white one instead. Course, my people just call it sassy.