Sixty? Meet my mom. Oh wait. You're bleeding.

I'm sure y'all wanna know how it went with Sixty meeting my mother on Sunday.

The plan was to meet at my house, head to Spaghetti Warehouse for dinner, then back to my place for dessert.

Now - my mom's my best friend. I have told her pretty much everything about Sixty. And from what I have told her, she likes him. She just wants to meet the dude in person. You know. Size him up a bit. Just kidding, but you know what I mean.

So 4:30 came along and everyone showed up. Mom actually got there before Sixty did, and she asked if she could open the door. I said sure; he would get a kick out of it. So a knock on the door, and she went to open it. "Yes?" she said, acting like she didn't know who he was. He laughed and they shook hands. What a fun way to break the ice.

We sat and chatted for a while, and I could tell Sixty was nervous. I kept prompting him with "tell her about this" lines, and he would run with them. He's so modest that he would never brag about himself on his own, but I'm proud of his accomplishments, and this was a good opportunity to share all that he's done. (He was in the Navy right out of high school, lived in some fabulous places, and learned some super skills. Now he's got a stellar job because of those experiences.) Regardless, I could still tell he was nervous.

My stomach was making obscene noises, so I suggested we get outta there before I ate my right arm. We gathered our things and headed out. I opened the door, and remembered my trash had been sitting on the front porch, needing to be taken out. I no more than said "Oh, I need to take that to the dumpster," when Sixty had already picked it up and was headed to throw it out. What a sweetheart.

He also offered to chauffeur us to dinner in my car. A smile spread across Mom's face.

He pulled up the restaurant, offering to drop us off while he found a parking spot.

Needless to say, Mom thought he was quite the gentleman.

After we ordered (Sixty getting the least expensive meal on the menu), we munched on salad and bread. But this wasn't any old bread - it was tough, crusty French bread. Sixty reached to saw a piece off for himself.

He quickly dropped the knife, grabbed his finger with his other hand, and said "Dammit!"

Instantly, he winced - not because he had sliced his finger open - but because he just swore in front of my mother.

Mom, not knowing what was going on or why he had sworn, said "What happened?" Sixty pulled his hand from his wound.

"Shit!" Mom said, instantly wincing as well. I died laughing.

"See?" I grinned, looking at Sixty. "We're not all prim and proper around here." I hopped up to ask the waitress for a bandage. She quickly went to get one.

Dinner was delicious. We talked about online dating, and some of my mother's experiences with Match.com. (She was the one who inspired me to try it.) I was the first one that Sixty had met from the site, so he was entertained with stories about Mom's doozies that she'd gone out with.

We walked to the car, climbed in, and Sixty says "Sandra? Do you have any Pepto Bismol at your house?" I didn't. "Okay then. I'm going to drop you two off at your apartment and go to the drug store."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Well," he said, loud enough for Mom to hear, too, "I've been so nervous that my stomach is really upset."

Poor kid. We got to my apartment, and he said "Wait. I think I have some medicine in my truck. I'll be back," and he headed to where he had parked. He took a couple of tablets, and said he would be fine in a little bit.

And he must have been okay because he certainly didn't have any problems finishing off the dessert I made. I have to say, it was rather delicious.

All in all, it was fun. Mom - who isn't big on giving hugs - even gave Sixty a hug right before she left. I watched as his face just lit up.

Sixty told me after she left, "Wow. She was cool! I liked her."

She liked him, too.