Who brings their parents to a first date? My boyfriend from a dating app did. But what really got me was the list of OUTRAGEOUS DEMANDS his parents brought with them. I knew I’d have to outwit them… but on my own terms.
When I virtually met Jacob on a dating site several months ago, we hit it off instantly. The connection felt real — the kind that makes your heart skip a beat when you see a new message notification. I grew to think that he was “the one,” but then when we actually met… well, let’s just say reality has a way of shattering our perfectly crafted illusions.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
Three months of late-night texts and hour-long video calls had built up to this moment. Jacob wasn’t just another match; he was different.
While most guys led with cheesy pickup lines or bland “hey” messages, he had caught my attention with a detailed comment about my profile photo taken at Comic-Con.
“Is that a handmade Scarlet Witch costume?” he’d written. “The detail work is incredible!”
From there, our conversations flowed naturally. He listened, really listened, when I talked about my work as a graphic designer and my dreams of starting my own studio.
A woman using a computer | Source: Midjourney
He shared my love for true crime podcasts and could quote every episode of my favorite shows by heart. When I mentioned my sister’s battle with depression, he opened up about his own experiences with anxiety.
“I feel like I can tell you anything,” he’d said during one of our video calls, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ve never connected with someone like this before.”
“Me neither,” I’d admitted, feeling my cheeks flush. “Sometimes I worry this is too good to be true.”
He’d laughed then, running a hand through his dark hair. “I can’t wait to finally meet you in person. Friday at Coffee Beanz? 7 p.m.?”
A man using a laptop | Source: Pexels
“It’s a date! Finally!” I’d chirped, unable to contain my excitement.
“See you on Friday!” He said as I hung up, blushing.
I spent the entire week planning my outfit, finally settling on a gorgeous dress that my best friend Sarah insisted brought out my eyes.
“He won’t know what hit him,” she’d said, helping me style my hair.
Friday evening found me standing outside Coffee Beanz, smoothing down my dress for the hundredth time. Through the window, I could see couples enjoying their meals, soft candlelight flickering across their faces.
People in a cafe | Source: Unsplash
My hands were shaking slightly as I pushed open the heavy wooden door, the warm aroma of garlic and fresh bread enveloping me. My eyes nervously darted around in search of Jacob.
“Lia! Over here!”
I turned toward Jacob’s familiar voice, my practiced smile freezing on my face. There he sat, but not ALONE.
An older couple sat beside him, their faces beaming with smiles. My heart, which had been filled with excitement all day, sank to my stomach.
“Hey… um, hi, what’s going on?” I managed, my brain struggling to process the scene before me.
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
Jacob stood up, his bright smile unchanged as if this was completely normal. “Lia, I’m so excited to finally meet you! These are my parents, Linda and Patrick!”
Linda, a petite woman with perfectly coiffed gray hair and gold earrings that probably cost more than my monthly rent, gave me a practiced smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Patrick, sporting a dress shirt that seemed a size too small for his frame, barely looked up from his menu.
“Sit down, girl,” Linda patted the chair next to her, not next to Jacob. “While we wait for our appetizers, I have a few questions for you.”
An older lady smiling | Source: Midjourney
I sank into the chair, still trying to make sense of this ambush. The waiter appeared with water glasses, and I found myself wishing it was something stronger.
That’s when Linda pulled out a crisp sheet of paper from her designer handbag.
“Now then,” she cleared her throat, clicking her gold-plated pen. “I’ve prepared a brief questionnaire to help us get to know you better. I want you to fill it out.”
Sheets of paper on a table | Source: Pexels
My eyes scanned the paper she placed before me, each question worse than the last:
1. What is your current annual income and five-year career projection?
2. Please list any medical conditions, including a family history of genetic disorders.
3. How many romantic partners have you had, and what were the reasons for those relationships ending?
4. Do you own or lease your vehicle? What is your credit score?
5. Are you willing to sign a prenuptial agreement?
6. Do you plan to work after having children? If so, who will provide childcare?
7. What is your stance on living with in-laws?
8. Are you willing to host special occasions like Thanksgiving & Christmas every year without expecting a penny from your partner?
A startled woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels
The questions went on and on like a never-ending train carriage. My water glass stopped halfway to my mouth. “I’m sorry, but is this for real?”
“Of course it is, dear,” Linda replied, her tone suggesting I was being deliberately difficult. “Our family has certain standards to maintain. We need to ensure any potential partners for our Jacob are… suitable.”
My eyes darted to Jacob, waiting for him to jump in, to say this was all a joke. But he just sat there, examining his napkin as if it held the secrets of the universe.
A man sitting casually | Source: Midjourney
Something snapped inside me. Three months of building this connection, sharing hopes and fears, only to be treated like a job applicant? No. This called for a different approach.
“Would you excuse me for just a moment?” I smiled sweetly. “Ladies’ room.”
Instead of heading to the restroom, I ducked into the convenience store next door. Five minutes later, I returned with my own notebook and pen.
“Before I answer your questions,” I said, sitting down with renewed confidence, “I have a few of my own.”
A woman holding a piece of paper | Source: Pexels
Linda’s perfectly plucked eyebrows shot up in surprise as I placed the paper with my questions on the table. She picked it up and began reading loudly, her face speaking volumes of her anger.
“Question one: At what point did you realize your son wasn’t capable of choosing his own partner?”
Patricks’s face reddened. Jacob finally looked up from his napkin.
“Question two: How many women have actually completed your interrogation process? Or do most run screaming before the credit check?”
“This is completely inappropriate!” Linda’s voice pitched higher as she continued to read.
A furious older woman with a man | Source: Midjourney
“Question three: Do you also inspect their teeth like show horses, or is that saved for the second date?”
“Question four: When Jacob moves out of your basement, will you be requiring his future wife to submit weekly progress reports?”
“Question five: Have you considered therapy for your control issues, or is that too personal a question?”
“That’s enough!” Jacob slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware jump. “You have no right to disrespect my family like this!”
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
I leaned back, crossing my arms. “Oh, but they have every right to treat me like I’m applying for a position at the FBI?”
“My parents are just looking out for me,” he protested, his voice weak. “They want what’s best— “
“No, Jacob. What’s best for you would be growing a backbone and living your own life.”
Linda and Patrick were already gathering their things, faces flushed with indignation. Linda’s hands shook as she stuffed her questionnaire back into her bag.
“We’re leaving,” she announced. “Jacob, come on. She’s not the one for you.”
“Wait!” I called out, loud enough for nearby tables to turn. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Side shot of a woman | Source: Midjourney
They paused. “WHAT??”
“Waiter, these people are trying to leave without paying their bill!” I announced loudly, waving to the waiter. “Guess running out on checks is another proud family tradition!”
The restaurant had gone quiet. Linda’s hands shook as she pulled out her credit card, practically throwing it at the waiter. I stood up, smoothing my dress once again.
“Well, this has been entertaining. I’ll cover my water.” I placed a five-dollar bill on the table and turned to Jacob.
“Good luck finding someone who meets your family’s rigorous standards. Although, you might want to try job recruitment sites instead of dating apps. I hear they provide detailed background checks and references.”
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
As I walked out into the cool evening air, my phone buzzed with a message from Jacob, “You didn’t have to be so cruel. My parents were just looking out for me.”
I typed back, “Just looking out for myself, mama’s boy. Goodbye!”
Later that night, Sarah called to hear about the date. After I finished telling her everything, she was quiet for a moment.
“You know what?” she finally said. “I bet Linda has a spreadsheet ranking all of Jacob’s potential wives.”
We both burst out laughing, and I felt the last of my disappointment melt away. Dodged a bullet? Absolutely. And I’ve never been so grateful for a red flag wrapped in a questionnaire.
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Every Day Little Boy Comes Home from School in Tears until His Father Shows up in His Classroom – Story of the Day
When Joe decided to grow his hair, his classmates started making fun of him. One of his teachers, Mr. Cooper, was a man of conservative values, and he even encouraged the jokes against Joe. But one day, Joe’s father found out about the situation, and he did something shocking.
“What are you doing with that ponytail? Are you a little girl?” Mr. Cooper sneered when Joe walked into his classroom on the first day of school. The rest of his classmates laughed, and Joe looked down in shame. But he knew he had to keep growing it. He had his reasons. No one would dissuade him, not even the worst teacher in the school.
Joe had started growing his hair the previous school year. No one paid too much attention to it then because the summer holidays had begun. But now that he was back, everyone saw how overgrown his hair was because he kept it in a ponytail.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Unfortunately, the comments didn’t stop, and the other boys in class started teasing him every day. The poor eight-year-old returned home every day in tears, but he never told his parents what was happening. They tried to let it go, and Joe started hiding his tears in the bathroom at some point.
Joe’s father got out his phone. He loaded the video they shot the night before and showed it to Mr. Cooper.
Their art teacher, Mrs. Burns, was somewhat new at the school, and she found Joe crying one day after everyone left for recess. “Joe, what’s going on? Why are you growing your hair so long?” she asked kindly.
He finally felt compelled to tell someone about it, and when he finished, the gentle teacher gave him a huge hug. “You have a beautiful heart. Don’t ever let anyone else change that, okay?” she told him encouragingly.
“But even Mr. Cooper makes fun of me. It’s not fair,” Joe mumbled. His tears had finally stopped, thanks to her kindness.
“Some people will always be bullies even when they grow up. I’ll try to talk to him,” Mrs. Burns replied, patting his shoulder.
“Don’t tell him why. He doesn’t deserve to know anything. This is my thing,” Joe requested, looking at the teacher with his earnest eyes.
“Of course. This will be between you and me. But what you are doing is nothing to be ashamed of,” the teacher assured him.
“Still. I don’t want them to know,” the little boy insisted, and Mrs. Burns nodded with a slight grin.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
***
Over the next few days, Mrs. Burns talked to teachers about the situation, but the truth is that all of them didn’t approve of the hairstyle. They thought Joe’s parents were wrong for not getting it cut.
The math teacher, Mrs. Figgins, complained, “If he’s allowed to grow his hair out at eight years old, he’s going to become a hoodlum in high school. Kids, especially boys, need discipline at this age.”
Mrs. Burns had no idea what to do. She didn’t have seniority at this school and Mr. Cooper was the most respected teacher there. Furthermore, she couldn’t tell them the real reason because of Joe’s request. Maybe calling his parents would be a better option, she thought. If things didn’t get better soon, she might have no choice.
***
“Joe, come down here!” Joe’s dad, Patrick Perkins, called out one night.
“What dad?” Joe said when he reached the kitchen. He had been doing his homework.
“Your teacher, Mrs. Burns, just called. She told me everything. Are the kids making fun of you? Is that why you’ve been crying every day after school?” Patrick inquired, kneeling before his son and looking at him.
The boy pouted his lips, and his eyes watered too. “It’s not just my friends. Mr. Cooper is the worst,” Joe revealed, shocking his father.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“What?” Patrick said, shocked. He couldn’t believe it. He knew Mr. Cooper and had talked to him before. He was an older fellow, a veteran, and a well-respected man in their community. Of course, everyone knew he was conservative, but he didn’t think he would go as far as to make fun of a child for their hair.
Joe nodded, and his dad asked, “Why didn’t you tell them why you’re growing your hair?”
“It’s not their business,” the little boy said, and Patrick nodded this time. It was utterly true. No one else needed to know about it.
“You are completely right, kid. But you know something. I believe it’s time to cut that hair. You’ve finally reached the required length, and I have a plan,” Patrick stated, smiling at his son, who got excited about reaching his goal.
Patrick called his wife, Rosie, who placed Joe’s hair in a proper ponytail, and she cut it completely, saving the hair for their particular plan. Patrick had been recording it on his phone the entire time and even asked Joe to say something to commemorate the moment.
***
“Finally, Joe! You no longer look like a girl!” Mr. Cooper bellowed when Joe walked into class, but he didn’t expect to see Patrick there too.
“Mr. Cooper,” Patrick muttered, looking sternly at the teacher.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oh! Mr. Perkins! So, you finally got your kid a haircut? Congrats!” the teacher said with a smile, extending his hand to shake Patrick’s.
Instead of shaking Mr. Cooper’s hand, Joe’s father got out his phone. He loaded the video they shot the night before and showed it to Mr. Cooper. The teacher’s eyebrows rose as he watched it, and Patrick started speaking so that all the kids could hear him.
“Mr. Cooper, I understand you have been encouraging the jokes against my son. I would’ve never imagined that from you, sir,” Patrick said sternly.
The older man swallowed thickly, and it seemed he got emotional. “I had no idea he would be donating his hair to cancer patients.”
The kids heard that and raised their eyebrows at Joe in surprise and admiration.
“Yeah, well. Joe didn’t want to tell anyone until he reached his goal. We visited a children’s hospital and did some volunteer work last April. He loved it and started growing his hair right away. But this school year, he started coming home in tears because everyone made fun of him, including his teacher. Do you think that’s fair, sir?” Joe’s father reprimanded the older man, who looked extremely ashamed of his actions.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“I’m… so sorry, Joe. Mr. Perkins, I had no idea. My… granddaughter just went through several rounds of chemo, and she lost all her hair. My son and daughter-in-law had communicated with this foundation that makes wigs from donations,” Mr. Cooper sadly stated to Joe’s father and the kids in class. Then he approached Joe, who was already sitting at his desk.
“Thank you, kid. Not all heroes wear capes,” Mr. Cooper offered. “I was so wrong. Please, forgive me.”
Joe only nodded and smiled at the older man and Patrick finally reached out and shook Mr. Cooper’s hand. “I’m glad we’ve settled this. See you later, son,” he waved at Joe and left the classroom.
The rest of the day, all the kids asked Joe about his donation and what it was like. The boys started talking about growing their hair too, and the girls wanted to join in. They had learned a huge lesson that day.
What can we learn from this story?
- It’s best not to judge anyone on their appearance. Everyone has a right to express themselves, and no one has the right to mock them for it.
- Doing something charitable can inspire others to do the same. Joe’s act of kindness and generosity rubbed off on his classmates who also wanted to do the same.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who adopted a little boy she found abandoned on the side of the road.
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