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?
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Life is about making decisions. There is no such thing as only one option. So wherever you find yourself, there was a choice involved. It’s our responsibility to choose well, and if we don’t, then we need to own the consequences as of our own making and choose again.
Very true. And I own every decision I make. However, in that case, I couldn’t really say no to my parents coming over. I’m more upset about them coming over and “invading” my space because my half-brother – who I’m in awful terms with – had health issues and my father wanted to be by his side. Still, my frustration is more grounded in the fact my half brother never thanked me for having my parents over, and to basically serve as hotel while they take care of him. I”m quite charitable but in this case, I’d rather just not deal with any of it. It is what it is.