Last night we went to Michael’s mother’s house for dinner. It was his grandmother’s birthday, and since I hadn’t seen her since she got back from Florida, I was actually looking forward to it.

On the way there Michael mentioned that if my living situation came up, he’d handle it. Some background: they didn’t know we live together. Even though it’s something I wanted to tell them as soon as I moved in a year ago, he didn’t want to deal with the backlash from his very religious mother. While I didn’t agree with the decision, I figured I’d keep quiet for the time being. If his mother showed enough interest to ask about where I was living, I would tell her the truth.

She never asked.

Dinner was going smoothly and Grandma and I were joking and laughing and discussing Michael and I getting engaged, when she sprung it on me. “Are you still living in that apartment?”

I kicked Michael under the table. This was it…and it was his task to break the news. But he was talking to his mother and couldn’t respond right away. So I did what any adult would do….pretended I didn’t hear her. So she asked again. And I kicked Michael. Again. Harder.

This time he answered. “She lives with me now.”

My heart was racing and I swear I wasn’t breathing. I braced myself for impact when… “That’s wonderful!” cried Grandma.

Excuse me? That’s not what I was expecting.

As Grandma went on to say what a great idea, both financially and relationship-wise our moving in together was, I looked over at his mother. Who was stone-faced. I watched as she got up and started slamming dishes, stomping around the kitchen, and eventually yelling at the girls to “Get ready for bed! NOW!!”

Ooooh shit.

The thing is, the explosion I was expecting never happened. Well, not exactly. She didn’t yell at Michael or tell him she was disappointed. Instead she started talking about how we might not see a time when Michael and I have children because the END IS NEAR. And how does she know this? Because “I read the Bible, mother!”

Hmm. I think she’s upset.

It was shortly after that we made our exit. Part of me is relieved that it’s out in the open. I don’t have to worry about her popping by unexpectedly (and uninvited) on a Saturday morning while I’m still in my pajamas, causing me to run upstairs and frantically throw on clothes. Yes, that’s happened.

The other part of me thinks this is just the tip of the iceberg. Stay tuned…