Mommy Issues

In honor of Mother's Day, I'm giving a shoutout to all the guys I have ever known who never successfully untied themselves from their mothers' apron strings.

I have a general rule: if a guy talks to me about his mom within the first hour of meeting me, I'm outta there.

Why?

Oh, because nothing scares me more than a guy who has mommy issues.

These guys are all over the place, blending in with all the other normal folk, pretending that their mothers don't still run their lives.

They're the ones that are usually the firstborn or the only son in a family, and therefore their mothers coddle them from birth and never really stop. Therefore, no girl they bring home is ever good enough, and they never get over being their mother's son.

I was once in a car with a boyfriend at the time, and his mother actually asked him if his bowel movements were regular, because she was worried he wasn't getting enough fiber in his diet. Even more worrisome was the fact that he answered her like it was a normal conversation topic. Yes, mom, I've been pooping on schedule.

She also still did all his laundry, despite the fact that he was in his mid-twenties. She would wash his underwear and fold it into perfect little squares. He had no idea how to do his own laundry; he once looked at my fabric softener like it was an magical.

In college, I dated a guy who was so incapable of feeding himself that his mother had to make him meals for a week, and put them in his freezer, so that he would only have to pop them in a microwave to have a full, nutritious meal.

Terrifying, I know.

I've known a handful of other guys, Dry Cleaner Guy included, who told me upfront that their moms tell them how special and smart they are. I don't even want to drag poor old Oedipus into this, but the psychological ramifications seem to be that these guys are overly arrogant and simultaneously needy.

Which is one of the reasons that as soon as my friend P started talking about his mother's menopause, R and I knew that she was in for trouble. And why I'm pretty terrified of guys that still live at home with their parents.

I have nothing against people who are close to their families. I am the first one to admit that my father still sees me as a four year-old and spoils me rotten. He called me a week ago to remind me to wash my hands before I eat because of the swine flu outbreak. Because normally, I'm so dirty and unsanitary that I don't wash my hands before I eat. Thanks Dad. Appreciate that.

And no, I don't find this hypocritical, because my father is the second person to point out my faults (my mother would be the first), so I have no problem letting him get away with playing the overprotective father role once in a while.

Plus, I've been doing my own laundry for over ten years now, so go me.

Now, if I could only remember to wash my hands before I eat...