Are We There Yet?
The ladies close ranks on family spending
Lori Clinch

Years ago, as my husband approached his 30s, my mother-in-law became concerned that he might never marry.

In a bit of a panic, she decided to take matters into her own hands. So, she did as any devout Catholic woman would do: she snatched up her rosary, went to the church and said prayers that the maiden of her son's dreams would soon enter his life.

Following the prayers, she lit a prayer candle and by doing so, she left all of the decision-making in God's hands.

Imagine her surprise when I showed up.

I'm sure that meeting the person that your child may one day marry is as hard on the parent as it is on the child. There must be a lot of anxiety with regard to what kind of human this person may be. Unless, of course, you're a man.

When my husband first met my parents, it was on his terms. He had time to dress, shower, and run his fingers through his hair.

My dad, being tickled that his daughter was finally dating someone seriously, didn't even give Pat his What-are-your-intentions-with-my-little-girl? talk, for which he was famous. He didn't even ask him about his career aspirations, his life-long goals or whether or not he had diversified his financial portfolio.

At my ripe old age of 25, my father was simply hoping that someone would still take me. Therefore, instead of grilling my gentleman caller, my dad shook Pat's hand, slapped him on the back, told him there'd be no hurry in bringing me back, and then I'm pretty sure that he slipped him a twenty.

When my turn came, however, I did not receive the customary "meet the parents" announcement that was due me. Anyone who is anyone knows that before meeting the mother of a man whom one has dated and thinks well of, a girl needs time - and lots of it. She needs hours for hair adjustments, three weeks for a strenuous weight-loss regimen, and perhaps a consultation with a good therapist.

Check this. Instead of receiving proper warning, I got a Mom-wants-to-meet-you-and-we'll-be-there-in-20-minutes notification. Instead of having the time to work on my appearance and calm my demeanor, I showed up to dinner with bad hair and looking as if I had just swept the chimney.

I'm sure that I was nothing like the woman that my mother-in-law had prayed her son would find. A tall woman who cracks jokes and airs her issues in public wouldn't be the daughter-in-law of any mother's dreams.

Yet, my mother-in-law has taken me in stride. She tolerates my imperfections, overlooks most of my faults and even laughs at my witticisms.

For years I've tried to be the best-darned woman that a daughter-in-law can be. I've cooked balanced meals, supported my babies' heads and forced coats on my kids in July.

Things went pretty well until the other night, when my husband of many years yanked the proverbial carpet right out from under me. Would you like to guess what he said in front his mother? Go ahead and guess, because you'll never guess it right.

He said this to me, and I'm not even kidding: "Lori, I've been looking over our finances, and you've been spending too much money."

How's that grab ya? You show me someone who is not appalled by that, and I'll show you a man.

"Lori spends too much money, Pat?" my mother-in-law asked.

"Yep," he replied, and just for a moment the air was so think that you could have cut it with a mustard knife. Time stood still, the barometric pressure dropped, and for a minute it seemed as though the earth stopped spinning on its axis. I scowled at my husband, he looked at me and swallowed hard, and then, as if waiting for the verdict, we both looked at my mother-in-law.

"I've shopped with Lori," my mother-in-law finally said, "and she only buys things on sale."

And when she spoke to her son, she did so in a firm manner.

"Men just don't understand that it takes a lot of money to run a household," she said. Then, as if to drive the idea home with a "so there!," she pointed a quick finger and nodded in his direction.

It's taken a lot of years, but I finally felt as if I'd passed the test. I was surprised, although I'm not sure why.

After all, that little woman did light a candle to get me.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.