We`d met in college, and had been dating for about three months when my mother called. Come meet the family. Promises of Chicken Dijon were dangled. Adam grinned and said, "Sure, why not?"

Meeting someone`s parents is tough enough. But I hadn`t warned him about "the gauntlet": my siblings, who tortured every boyfriend I brought home.

Chicken Dijon was quickly replaced by "Grilled Adam".

"So, Adam, are you in love with my sister?"

"Did you know Barry, her last boyfriend?"

"Do you think she kisses weird? Some of her old boyfriends said it was gross."

To Adam`s credit, he didn`t flinch. As my mother brought out Chocolate Mousse for dessert, my brother and three sisters turned up the heat on poor Adam.

"Do you think you`ll marry my sister?"

"Will you make a ton of money? Patricia says she wants to be rich."

Adam survived "the gauntlet" , and we dated for another two years before a friendly break-up. I bumped into him years later at LaGuardia airport in New York, He told me he was married, and I said I was, too.

"So, did your husband handle "the gauntlet" better than I did?" he laughed.

"No one," I assured him, "handled it better than you."
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