HUMOR
He Was Angry About What Happened When I Met His Mother
I think she was the one to blame
His fist pounded against the door as we waited on the overly floral front step. A bright red front door surrounded by pink and blue flowers seemed like an odd choice.
Fucking clown people.
I smoothed my black dress with my hands and tossed my long, dark hair over my shoulder. My feet shuffled nervously in my boots and I bit my lip. I hated meeting mothers.
Footsteps filled the room on the other side of the door before it swung open. In the doorway stood an average-sized woman with long blond hair. The bright pink lipstick that she wore matched her pink shorts, but clashed with the blue tye-dye t-shirt that hung from her shoulders.
Clearly, a unicorn had emptied its balls on her.
Squealing, she grabbed my beloved and pulled him into her arms, continuing to screech as I stood smiling, willing my eyebrows to not give away my thoughts.
When she let go of him, she pulled me in for the same squealy hug. Panicked about how to respond, I made weird throat noises.
Like a turned-on seagull.
Once I was released, she grabbed my hand to lead me down a hallway covered in…
