When Mom Is on the Scent, and Right

I don't like him,” my mother said. I had called her from the train after visiting my long-distance boyfriend of eight months in Boston. I wanted to tell her how hard I had fallen for him, a man I had gone to college with but didn’t know then. We met at our 10-year reunion and immediately connected. He was moving to Brooklyn to live with me. I was thrilled, but my mother insisted it was a mistake.

“You’ve never even met him,” I said.

“I have negative vibes,” she said.

“You’ve never even seen him.”

“I don’t like what he posts on Facebook.”

“You’ve never had one conversation with him.”

“He’s not a bad person,” she said. “He’s just not right for you.”

“You focus on such superficial qualities,” I argued. “Snap judgments tell you nothing about a relationship.”

“I’m a profiler. It’s what I do for a living.”

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