Why I don't tell my mother things

So, this weekend I am attending a wedding. (I know, earth-shattering, right?) And my mother and sister will be there as well, having traveled over 14 hours in a car to get there. (Still not grabbing your attention I am sure.) First off, let me declare, I love my mother. She is a pint sized dynamo who taught me to kick ass and take names. She flips the bird backwards, it's adorable. She is funny and caring and ....hmmm...how to say this....overinvolved in the lives of everyone she cares about. My friends in high school loved her but were all a little afraid of her. She was that MOM. My college friends all thought she was crazy. My law school friends only met her once at graduation (with the exception of a few).

That being said, the still-monikerless man will be attending the wedding with me. (I know, this isn't exciting to anyone. You may stop reading if you like). My mother is apparently over the moon at the prospect of my date, i.e. that I have one AND she gets to meet him. Not only has she informed all members of the extended family and friends to be in attendance of this occurence, she has also activated the family phone tree. I am getting calls from cousins and grandparents about my new relationship. (to which my normal response is similar to the strangled goose noise recently made by a co-worker)

*I'm sure anyone who reads this doesn't understand the fact that I am actually a very private person. I mean I spew all my thoughts here so surely I do so in real life, right?*

Okay, maybe I am not so private in real life either, when I start thinking about it. Really, I guess I don't tell my mother things. It opens the door to the Spanish Inquisition on any subject. She will remember the littlest detail and ask me about it 6 months later when I have completely forgotten whatever off-handed statement I made. (I think she secretly records our conversations and replays them 2 months later so she can brush up.)

Now, the reason I'm blogging about this in a completely uninteresting way is because of my mother's level of excitement. (I mean, she woke my grandma up from a nap to tell her, c'mon!). I am aware that I haven't introduced her to a man in a decade. I am aware that she suffered in my divorce like I did. I am aware she has worried in her heart-of-hearts that I am some bitter mean person who will forever be alone (not that I mind that scenario too much). Now, the scary part is....I'm quite certain she is going to interrogate said monikerless man mercilessly even though I have asked her not to. I specifically told her she is not allowed to pack the bright desk lamp she usually points in one's face as she asks questions.

So, I guess I am asking for help. Monikerless man and I haven't defined what we are. I am fine with that. However, I think my mother may have gotten a bit carried away at the novelty of the situation and has read more into his presence than was meant (ie someone to dance with and cuddle up next to in the hotel, not precursor to wedding bells). Any ideas of how to rein in the runaway (but well-meaning) mother?

Oh and while I'm thinking about it, since we haven't defined what we are, is it copasetic to introduce monikerless man as my date? (I did previously mention the whole haven't introduced someone new in a decade right? I'm a bit out of practice, obviously). Oh yeah, and do I warn him or let him walk into this completely unprepared? I am leaning towards completely unprepared...because it will be funny, for me at least :)