My Mom the Matchmaker :: Personal Narrative Profile

My Mom the Matchmaker   I was walking around Fairfield Highs Arts and Crafts show last pass when I truism a mirror with that saying engraved around the edge. I didnt know whether to buy it for my pay off or myself. I dont think many a(prenominal) 17-year-old girls see a similarity between themselves and their fetchs. That seems to come much later in life, if at each(prenominal). But then again, most 17-year-old girls dont have a fix like mine. . .   My mother made a list of colleges she wanted me to consider based on the ratio of men to women Connecticut College was at the top. . . 600 male cadets recompense across the street. My mother is a professional matchmaker and my brother and I are her biggest ch each(prenominal)enges.   Other third grade girls had arts and crafts parties, or pizza and icon sleepovers. . . I had a boy/girl silver disco nighttime affair in my finished basement. Mom removed all the furniture, strung up white lights, pre-recorded all the music, and insisted that all the third grade boys arrive in ties and jackets. Their mothers said they would never come. Well, every one of them showed up, all decked out, to my mothers delight. My party was the social matter of third grade. . . we restrained watch the video today   Mom except loves romance, what else can I say? She made her first match when she was a crank in college, and they just celebrated their 27th anniversary. She also unknowingly fixed up my dads gay roommate with her lesbian 2nd cousin . . .they actually date for months before falling out the news to each other, and then to my mom. She even arranged prom dates for four seniors two days before the prom, and considered starting a ship called Prom Partners. non at my high prepare, I warned her.   Back in seventh grade, when everyone was in the midst of their first romance, Mom would always volunteer to fight the carpools home from school dances or the movies. If she saw a new couple sitting i n the third seat in her rearview mirror and she thought, given a little pointless time, that magical first kiss might take place, she would just keep driving around the block to give romance a chance. Needless to say, all of my friends loved her.My Mom the Matchmaker Personal Narrative Profile My Mom the Matchmaker   I was walking around Fairfield Highs Arts and Crafts show last weekend when I saw a mirror with that saying engraved around the edge. I didnt know whether to buy it for my mother or myself. I dont think many 17-year-old girls see a similarity between themselves and their mothers. That seems to come much later in life, if at all. But then again, most 17-year-old girls dont have a mother like mine. . .   My mother made a list of colleges she wanted me to consider based on the ratio of men to women Connecticut College was at the top. . . 600 male cadets right across the street. My mother is a professional matchmaker and my brother and I are her biggest challen ges.   Other third grade girls had arts and crafts parties, or pizza and video sleepovers. . . I had a boy/girl silver disco nighttime affair in my finished basement. Mom removed all the furniture, strung up white lights, pre-recorded all the music, and insisted that all the third grade boys arrive in ties and jackets. Their mothers said they would never come. Well, every one of them showed up, all decked out, to my mothers delight. My party was the social event of third grade. . . we still watch the video today   Mom just loves romance, what else can I say? She made her first match when she was a freshman in college, and they just celebrated their 27th anniversary. She also unknowingly fixed up my dads gay roommate with her lesbian 2nd cousin . . .they actually dated for months before breaking the news to each other, and then to my mom. She even arranged prom dates for four seniors two days before the prom, and considered starting a venture called Prom Partners. Not at my high school, I warned her.   Back in seventh grade, when everyone was in the midst of their first romance, Mom would always volunteer to drive the carpools home from school dances or the movies. If she saw a new couple sitting in the third seat in her rearview mirror and she thought, given a little extra time, that magical first kiss might take place, she would just keep driving around the block to give romance a chance. Needless to say, all of my friends loved her.