Parents really do like me. I'm smart, successful, funny (although some would argue that), and take a genuine interest in people. All of my friend's and past boyfriend's parents have always liked me. I've never been nervous about meeting the parents before. Until now, that is.

I've been dating a fabulous Frenchman. Let's call him Fabrice. He makes me laugh and his eyes are the most amazing mix of blue and green. We met on my first day as an intern at a three star Parisian restaurant. It also happened to be his first day as well. Where I was a lowly intern, he was a real employee. When it came time for all the new kids to do the poubelle (garbage), I didn't have the faintest clue what do to. I was standing on the street next to another American intern trying to figure out what the heck I was supposed to be doing.

Fabrice approached us and explained in French that we were supposed to meet the garbage truck, throw all the garbage into the truck, and then place the cans back into the garbage room. But when he spoke, I didn't have a clue what he said. I stared at him blankly, so he quickly repeated the instructions in perfect English. I wave of relief spread over me - finally someone who could explain something to me in a language I could understand.

Because he spoke such good English, we quickly became friends. We'd wait for each other after the break or after work so we could ride the metro together. We'd talk about how much we hated work or his internship in the US. After a month or so, our friendship turned to romance.

Now back to the parents. We have an easy, comfortable connection. So I guess it's no surprise that Fabrice asked me to meet his parents when they came to Paris to visit. But these are not the kind of parents I'm used to - they're French. And I'm not. Most French are wary of etrangers (foreigners) and don't easily welcome them into their close knit circles. I bet a lot of French mothers out there dream of their sons meeting a sweet, petite woman who is French, of course. I've read numerous reports of American women who met and married Frenchmen, much to the dismay of the parents. One woman was even treated like furniture when she met her boyfriend's parents for the first time - she just had to sit there and pretend like she was a chair while everyone talked around her, not to her.

With those stories firmly planted in the back of my mind, I was nervous to say the least.

But there's more to the story. I tried to put myself in his mother's shoes. What mother would want her son dating someone who is 14 years older than him? (Yes, that does makes him 21.) And oh, did I forget to mention we're living together?? I can only imaging what she's thinking...

On the appointed day, I meet the parents. I'm instantly relieved because they are genuinely nice to me, even speaking English with the fabulously French accent I so love. Although I think everyone was a little nervous at first, the meeting went very well. I finally relaxed and could be myself. Whether they liked me or not, I have no idea. But I hope I gave them the impression that I'm just a nice girl from America who is here in Paris to follow her dream and her passion.