I have been married for going on fifteen years. I haven’t been on a date since the 1990s. And, yet, now that I’m a dad, I am now repeating the awkward behaviors that plagued my dating life, but this time, it’s with the moms and dads of kids my daughter likes.
Growing up, I was the girl who blasted Bon Jovi in the tiny subsidized apartment I shared with my mother, the one who preferred Friends to Martin and John Hughes to Spike Lee. Is it any wonder, then, why my mother would set me up on a Black Friend Date?