Sneaking Around

by Gwen Cooper — April 26, 2007

Depending upon your level of family dysfunction (or lack thereof), introducing your new boyfriend to your parents can be an ordeal of sorts. When you get to be a certain age, chances are you're less concerned with how your parents will receive your beau, and more concerned with potentially frightening insights that he might gain into your childhood, your quirks, and your family dynamic. There's nothing that can make your father's loud and random throat-clearing (so loud that it interferes with satellite signals) embarrassing anew like hearing it again for the first time through the ears of your new guy.

And so my week has been. I'm staying with my parents in Miami this week as I promote the book down here, and Robert has flown in to be with us. Because Robert and I were friends for so long before this new phase of our relationship began (two weeks and counting), he's already met my parents many times. But this is his first time staying with us in our house, and his first time interacting with them in his "boyfriend" capacity.

All in all, I'd have to say so far, so good. The only real awkwardness--aside from a wholly unnecessary tour through my childhood photo albums--has been at night. What I've learned this trip is that my parents have developed a tendency to sleep in shifts. My father stays up until two a.m. or so, while my mother goes to sleep at nine and wakes up at four. So there's a two-hour window, in the middle of the night, when Robert and I could potentially be...er...intimate without having to worry that any hall-roving parental types might be able to hear.

Which is to say, in essence, that there's been no intimacy to speak of during this trip. I mean, nothing kills romance or spontaneity like a designated time slot and a ticking clock. I suppose that's okay. It's not like we can't control ourselves or anything. And a little anticipation (I can't wait until we're alone together in New York again!) can nourish a new relationship like little else can.

But, still...did I mention the two weeks part? The first couple of months of a relationship is generally the "we can't keep our hands off each other" phase. I guess losing a week of that isn't the end of the world.

And yet, I'm finding myself possessed of the very strong temptation slip my parents a sedative when they aren't looking. Would one night of regular and coordinated sleep time be too much to ask?

Gwen Cooper is the author of Diary of a South Beach Party Girl, out this month from Simon & Schuster. To read all of Gwen Cooper's posts in The Dating Life, click here.