Note to Self (147) #Parents
Alright, time to open the vent. I got a lot of stuff to complain about, but should I really wash my dirty laundry in public? Eh, why not? I promise, it’s going to be more funny than painful.
I love my parents. I really love them. They’re the best. Always prepared, dedicated and ready to help me whatever I need. I call them, they pick up the phone and lift my spirit in no time. They come visit, they wash, clean and cook for me.
What can I say? They’re really awesome.
Yet… when they stay over for longer than a week, I start feeling antsy.
First, they remodel my house.
Second, they make comments every time I go out.
Third, they don’t let me watch my favorite shows on TV.
Fourth, I can’t walk around the house in my underwear.
Fifth, I can’t sleep late on weekends because they want to go for a walk.
Sixth, my fridge is a freaking nightmare because they buy all that crap I don’t eat, and the stuff I eat, they don’t buy.
Seventh, they call me in the middle of the day to ask me what time I come home.
Eighth, they can’t watch movies in English because they don’t speak English.
Ninth, they always want to talk and they never leave me alone.
Tenth, my mom makes weird comments about my personal life and these comments really throw me over the edge.
I could go on and on and on about them but the truth of the matter is, I love my parents when they’re 3,000 miles away. I have a friend who still lives with her parents and she’s over thirty years old. I have no clue how she does it. I would have already shot myself in the head a million times if it were me.
So here we go. You feel my pain now, don’t you?
Sigh. Can I escape to a deserted island until they’re back on the plane?