Why didn't he run away screaming? Any sane person would have. Any semi-sane person would have. That should have been my first clue ;)
So I've known this guy less than 3 months and I get the bright idea to bring him to my family reunion. Actually he expressed concerns about my driving 6 hours by myself and that just made my heart melt. Someone concerned about me? So I asked my mom about it (keep in mind I was still playing the "happy family" game at this time and in contact with my mom and Toilet - my sister, however, was much more "enlightened" and did not have contact with either). My mom's biggest concern was money, of course. And where he would sleep. Apparently my mother had determined that it would be appropriate for me to sleep in their room - there would be two beds, after all. That further convinced me that Future Husband (FH) needed to go. So I told my mother he could sleep on the floor and she said okay.
So we leave and drive to my Aunt's house. The plan is to crash there one night and then leave the next morning in a caravan to the resort where the reunion is being hosted. We get there late - about 7 or 8 pm probably. We walk in to the living room with my aunt, her husband, their two grown children, my mom, Toilet and maybe some other relatives.
Keep in mind, FH has met my mother and Toilet briefly at my college graduation, but just briefly. Like an introduction and hello is all.
So we walk in and it is obvious that the family has been drinking for quite some time. My uncle starts telling me that they just returned from a bar where the "ladies" were consuming shots. Not just any shots but shots with a name akin to a certain "act" woman do to men. (insert red face here). I look over at FH and he is red - or at least he looks red in the darkened room. I shrug and figure "trial by fire." If he can survive this, then he's okay in my book. I sure didn't want to get involved with anyone who couldn't deal with this kind of crazy crap my family pulls.
So we decide enough is enough and leave to go to play pool with my cousins. They leave us in this strange pool hall and come back much later - reaking of pot. Which is a smell FH has never smelled before. We return back to the house and the "powers of be" determine that FH and I must not share the same bedroom - fine with me - not my intent anyway, although I did find it ironic that someone actually cared now. So he goes off to sleep in the top bunk bed of my cousin's bed while I sleep on the pull-out sofa with my other cousin.
I wake up to find FH is still there. Funny, I thought he'd run away in the middle of the night. We drive on to the resort. On the way there, FH is talking about morals and other standards of "right living" - we're just chit chatting and still getting to know each other. inside I'm laughing, thinking, "if this guy only knew more about my family."
During the rest of the trip, he got to see my grandfather and grandmother consume alcohol (something I've only seen 1 or 2 x in my life) and the drunken behavior of all adults. He got to see my crazy, intoxicated Aunt cry into her wine glass over all the misfortune life had bestowed upon her. He got to hear the wild and vastly different versions of why my sister was not there. He got to see my cousin brought to the reunion by his father, who is divorced from my aunt (blood relative) and who stayed with my other aunt because his own mother didn't want to pay for him to be there. He also got to witness embarrasing things, like being confronted by Toilet upon our return walk down to the lake one evening - being questioned in a joking matter about what we had been doing. And having Toilet say things like "I saw you down there by the water...." insinuating we were doing something other than kissing. Although to FH, that in and of itself, was embarrassing enough.
When we returned from that trip, our relationship continued to grow. I did wish I could have been a fly on the wall to see what he told his parents about my family. Shortly thereafter I "spilled the beans" and confessed all to him - not nitty details but the basics about the sordid facts of my childhood. He didn't run then either. I haven't figured out if that makes him crazy or really loveable.....
(I'm doing this a bit backward, but the tale of how I knew FH was THE one is next)