It's game day. You've been training and building this moment up in your mind since "hi" became "hi, Tatum." You've read all the lit and you know every play. Outfits are carefully selected to disseminate "I go to church every Sunday...but I also don't have a stick up my butt." Tattoo exposure is inevitable and; thus, over compensation will have to make in other areas of expertise. Wear the once piece or the bikini? Is damn a bad word? Do you go with Mr. and Mrs. or just keep it casual? While a plethora of questions such as these bounce around my brain like the energizer bunny, it's time to close eyes and leap; it's time to meet the parents. Let's be honest, "meeting the folks" has been an event that has been both monopolized and stigmatized by Hollywood and most of Westernized culture in general. From movies such as "Meet the Parents" and "Meet the Fockers" all the way to the ever-so-classic "Father of the Bride," meeting parents has certainly been painted as a chaotic trip. So when asked to go on a camping trip to meet the 'rents, I, naturally, said:,"what could possibly go wrong?"

In actuality (plot twist of the century) parents are people too (someone put that on a billboard). Sure, there can be intimidating and awkward moments, (do you go in for the hug or the handshake) but when it's all said and done, everyone is there for the same reason...you all really like being around a certain someone.

Being the English Major that I am, etymology is always one of the most interesting and enlightening aspects of uncovering word meaning and evolution. Meeting someone's family, track with me here, is like getting the etymology. Suddenly crude and offensive jokes make more sense, political views become casual household debates where paying college tuition solo is hands downplayed as a trump card, and stories of vacations past begin to make waaaaayyy more sense. Family dynamics are not only hysterical but intricately complex and there's no better way to fall down the rabbit hole than to dive head first.

Let's be honest, the boyfriend isn't exactly the paragon of cultural sensitivity and walking in humble grace. You'll know when he disagrees with something because he won't stop debating (I've recently learned it is possible to have an argument with ones' self). Guessing movies' rotten tomatoes scores happens to be his hidden talent and you can bet your bottom dollar he knows every word to My Chemical Romance's "Welcome to the Black Parade;" all of which led me to the very correct assumption that his family would be colorful, to say the least.

In some ways, getting to know a family is one of the coolest parts of relationships in general. You get to meet people with thoughts, passions, and stories you, otherwise, would have never encountered. You get to learn a little bit more about where bae (I hate myself) has been and the things they love. And while you may have to take a break at the local coffee bean to hurriedly crank out articles, you never really stop smiling. And at the very least, you find yourself playing "Cards Against Humanity" around a camp fire listening to the swells of the ocean.