Please Don't Date My Mom

Terri Psiakis samples more American reality television and is left feeling dirty. Again.

If you’re one of those people who think the standard of Australian television has been lowered by reality-based series, rest assured we’re nowhere near as bad as America. I doubt very much that we’ll ever be likely to descend into the fetid depths of Date My Mom.

Like the people who appear on the show, the premise is simple: one guy takes three “moms” on a date, during which he quizzes them about their daughters. He eventually chooses one “mom” out of the three who then presents him with her daughter. And I’m going to stop using the word “mom” right now because the very act of typing it is making me feel like a tool.

Meet 16-year-old ball of testosterone, Rumen. Despite Rumen looking like the sort of boy you’d expect to find pictured alongside a feature article on teenage pregnancies, 3 mothers go on a date with him in the hope that he’ll then choose to date their daughter. The fact that my brain immediately associates the name Rumen with the word “hymen” would be enough for me to want him to stay away from my daughter. Then again, I’m not an all-American mum who probably stands to win a kitchen appliance and/or bourbon.

My favourite mother: Kim, who describes herself as a divorced mother of two who loves sculpting. Based on what we see of Kim I’m pretty sure she loves sculpting her breasts, which are monumental. This isn’t lost on Ruman, who while taking Kim on a date to a skate park, tells her “You have a beautiful rack.” Kim’s response? Not “Mind your tongue, young man” but “If you like these, you’re going to love my daughter Katrine.” Cut to a conversation between mother and daughter before the date where Katrine’s parting words to her mother are “Don’t forget to tell him how big my boobs are.” Tick.

This show is like a cross between Jerry Springer and Perfect Match. It’s set in Southern California where sunshine and inanity know no bounds and the final showdown takes place in a carpark by the beach – there aren’t any cars there but it’s definitely a carpark. The mothers assemble, Ruman chooses the daughter he wants to date and then the daughters he’s rejected roll up in limousines to show him what he’s missed out on.

Finally, his chosen daughter appears. Clearly a boob man – in more ways than one – Ruman has chosen Katrine. As she steps out of the limo and bounces towards him, Ruman gleefully addresses the camera: “No wonder she lost her virginity at 13.”

Yes. Her mother actually told him that.

Date My Mom is a ridiculous waste of finances based on a disturbing premise and it made me feel dirty when I watched it. This could possibly be my new favourite show.

-Terri Psiakis