Well my one wasn't meeting parents it was meeting my (at that time) partners Aunt Cathy. Now I'd heard so much about Cathy it made my head spin, she was quite a character, married five times. When Gilly and I went up to meet her I was (of course) on my best behaviour , and politely proferred my hand saying "Pleased to meet you Mrs Campbell." To which she replied (Somewhat indignantly), "I'm not Mrs Campbell." You can imagine my horror I've got the wrong bloody surname (thinks I). Milliseconds of personal horror followed until she added, "I'm not Mrs. Campbell, I'm Auntie Cathy." What a relief. I've got to say there are stories a-plenty about Cathy, like the time she handed me an old guitar with three rusted strings and said "Do you think you can get a tune out of this?" (This in the middle of a traditional Glasgow family party)
Unfortunately she's passed on now, but she always had a thing about straightening out Freddie Mercury if she got the chance. I know all of her family have visions of her chasing him around heaven jumping from cloud to cloud.