Column: Hi I'm Carter nice to meet you (4/12/24)

As a man, there are a few things in life that are guaranteed to fill you with complete dread. A trip to Primark, large queues, and worst of all meeting your girlfriend's dad. No matter how prepared you think you might be, I promise you that you are not.

I knew it would have to happen at some point. My girlfriend always spoke about her dad, how close they were, how protective he was, and how little he wanted her to have a boyfriend. How fantastic.

That was one of my first conversations with him. He set the tone early I'll give him that.

I was aware I was already starting behind in his estimations. My mere existence was enough for him to automatically not like me. I knew when this day inevitably came I needed to make a perfect first impression. Which for someone who consistently makes a tit of themselves the first time they meet someone, is not a good thing.

But the day had come, she told me he had asked to meet me. I was ready, there was nothing he could throw at me that I couldn't handle.

His name is Mark. He was a northern man, originally from Doncaster so I couldn't even bond over our shared love for the same football team. He liked to have a drink and as much as he seemed like a lovely man, he had the eyes of if you hurt my daughter, I will put you seven feet in the ground. 

Which I understood. I have a sister and my dad is the same. It's very natural. But that's also how I knew he meant every word he said. 

She said he's asked to take us camping. I couldn't believe it. You think you're prepared for anything and then they throw you the curve ball of camping.

I have been camping a few times in my life and each experience was less pleasant than the last. I was never able to see the appeal in sleeping in the cold, in the middle of nowhere on an air bed that is on its last legs. I hate it.

My final straw was having to camp at Reading Festival. Surrounded by drunk and drugged-up teenagers, having to wash myself with a water bottle and surviving in the pouring rain for a few days was enough to make me swear I'd never go camping again and for five years I've lived in complete bliss.

But I had no choice, I had to prove myself, my first interaction couldn't be me disagreeing with him. I haven't got a death wish. So I reluctantly, despite every fiber of my body being against it, agreed.

The day had finally come and there was no going back. He is outside waiting for us and it's too late for me to run away. If you're thinking this seems very sudden you'd be right. One minute he's an elusive man I've only heard about in stories and the next I'm gonna be sleeping in the same tent as him. 

At this point, my mind was racing with the most inconsequential things you could imagine.

I'm gonna have to shake his hand. What if I do it too hard and he thinks I'm trying to overpower him? What if I do it too soft and he thinks I'm weak? If I'm worrying about handshakes, how am I going to get through a whole weekend off speaking to him?

I eventually sucked it up and walked outside to see him. I made sure that I was carrying something when I walked out to avoid my shaking hands issue. 1-0 Carter. Keep this up and you might survive this weekend.

We spoke and it went ok. I met her stepmum, and her younger stepbrother and half-brother. They all seemed nice. Dare I say it but this is going ok, maybe I'm making a big fuss out of nothing.

We finished packing up the car and went on our way. 

I'm not one to brag. No one likes to hear it and I'd much rather laugh at myself doing something stupid. 

But this was worth bragging about. If you're wondering how it went I smashed it. If there was an award for meeting a parent for the first time I'd win with ease.

The weekend was a success, he didn't kill me, everyone else liked me and to top it off we left a day early cause we all mutually agreed camping is the worst thing in the world. What more can you ask for?

I even put up the tent. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you how impressive that is.

I'm two and a half years deep into my relationship now. Her dad loves me, I play football with her youngest brother every time I see them and they even take me on all their family trips. I have been accepted in their family which is all you can ask for.

I like to think that in 30 years time when my daughter is bringing home a man who clearly Isn't good enough for her that I'll be kind. That this experience I've had will shape me to treat him nice.

Lets be honest, if the first time I shake his hand I cant feel him shaking for fear then I have failed. But one things for sure, I definetly wont take him camping.