Duana and I talk about it all the time, as part of the “child of immigrants” experience. I’ve written about this already but the way we were raised, it’s jarring every time we see it. Because in our homes, there was no public display of affection. Maybe on your wedding day, but certainly not with a BOYFRIEND and definitely not at 18 and 23, what the f-ck? I still feel uncomfortable holding Jacek’s hand around my ma. So, yeah, no. There was no sleepover at my place with my boyfriend the way there is, often, at so many other homes during the holidays or, I dunno, reading week in university.
But, like, Mom! He’s from England! Do you really want him to stay at a hotel?!? Please Mom!
Please Mom! doesn’t work on a Chinese Squawking Chicken mother. Or, in Duana’s case, an Irish mother and an Egyptian father, which is why we never even tried. Like, I’m not sure those words would even come out of our mouths.
Anyway, here’s Harry Styles leaving Taylor Swift’s after a sleepover in LA and her ma was around and they’re all walking about like it’s no big, just a regular morning. Because, obviously, he slept in the guest room after they stayed up late eating ice cream in their jams on the couch watching While You Were Sleeping which I’ve now added to my annual Christmas viewing list. Totally forgot how much I love that movie.
What? He would never sneak into her bed in the middle of the night. Look at his face. That’s not a naughty face at all.
