From the Desk of Stella Goldberg

Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.

Dear Stella,

My mother is coming to visit soon. I’m worried about getting the third degree regarding all the things that are happening in my life. Particularly, I’m seeing a new man and I know she’s going to want to know every detail. Is there any way to deflect the Jewish Mother Inquisition so I’m not grilled for three days regarding my love life, career, and fashion taste?

Regards,
Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies

Dear AMNQITYNL,
Oh, if there is one thing I know about, it is the Jewish Mother Inquisition. When I first brought Morty home, I thought my mother’s questions would never end. She had to know every single little detail. “MA!” I’d say, “MA! What is with the third degree?!?! It’s like a freakin’ police interrogation in here.” “What do you know about police interrogations?” she’d ask me, “Is there anything you’d like to confess, young lady?!?” I promised myself that if I ever had kids, I would never turn into that woman. And I haven’t. When my children bring home dates, I only ask enough question to get the vital information. But you’d think I was my mother the way Frannie reacted when I started questioning her when she brought home her current guy. “MA!” she said, “MA! These questions are disgusting! You don’t need to know if it bends to the right or left!” “Look!” I tell her. “I just need to know that you’re happy!” And when my son, Jared, brings girls home, I have to ask enough question to know that they’re worth of my baby. He’s a doctor, you know. There are only so many handsome Jewish doctors to go around so you can’t go wasting them on some floozy that works in junior miss at Bloomindales! Any girl who gets my Jared has to have a future in front of her. And, of course, she’s got to know how to cook and take care of her man. I’m giving her the greatest gift I have to give – she better be able to take it on!

I’d tell you to do what I did when I had to face my mother. Be truthful, but evasive. If she asks more than she needs to know, just don’t answer. But whatever you do, don’t lie. If you end up marrying him, she’ll find out sometime that he’s actually not a partner at Vogel, Vonderlinden, and Timberland. That’s not a lie you can keep up forever. Trust me, I know! Also, if there’s anything big she needs to know, tell her up front. You don’t want her to be surprised later when you finally meet him at the Buddah Palace restaurant down on 68th and hand him your keys and tell him not to scratch the paint, only to find out the guy in the vest is actually your daughter’s boyfriend, not the valet. Could have warned me, Frannie! Apparently her new fellow isn’t a valet or anything. He works in telecommunications. As far as I’m concerned, he probably sells T-Mobile telephones at a kiosk in the mall. Bless, the grief kids will give you these days. I never!