raised by wolves

where did the california sunshine go? i think my parents took it with them to north carolina. isn't it crazy how you can be in the same room with people one night and by the following morning they are on the other side of the country? gets me every time. and speaking honestly, the week-long parents visit could've been condensed to five or even four days.

there were times when i wanted them out. when i wanted to have the couch and remote all to myself. when the disagreements about when and where to eat made me cranky and frustrated. during the five times a day my dad would comment (and moan) about los angeles parking and highway congestion. after getting that thirty-five dollar ticket, i thought he was going to shit a brick. but then again, there were more times when i wanted them in. like when we went to target and they bought me a knife (among other things, but i'm most proud of the knife). like during those three days i had to continually reassure myself that there was no way a spider could possess the strength to free itself from the captivity (red cup) i had bestowed onto him. funny part is that my parents were only gone for about a day during their visit but the spider remained underneath the red cup for three...guess people just aren't that phased by random cups next to toilets these days. the point i am trying to make is that despite the moments where i wanted mom and dad to just go, when they did go, i wanted them to stay. i could come up with some bullshit psychological explanation revolving around attachment theory and possibly my childhood but i think i'll spare you and myself from that...it is the weekend, after all.

truth is, now i have something noteworthy under my belt: the experience of having your mom and dad visit you in your home--at least, the place that you have made your home indefinitely. college is different. you make a commitment to be someplace for four years and that's that. some shifting of the roommates, some new decor, but all within the same zip code. post-college dwelling is a completely different ballgame. for most of us, it's the chapter in our lives where we have to put ourselves somewhere on the map...a roof over our head and some money in our pockets. and so when they come to visit us it is--for the first time--our city and our home that they are visiting. and during this groundbreaking trip it can really feel like the doctor is coming to your house for a personal check-up. are you eating? are you picking up after yourself? do you have friends? do you have clean sheets? what is a typical day like for you? this is just a small sample of the kinds of questions a parent must have circling in their heads when they visit the part of the world their child has chosen to leave them for for the first time in their adult life...until i have a kid myself i remain blind to how extensive the list of questions really is. now the kicker is that most of these questions are never actually asked out loud...they just kind of find a spot somewhere in between the tip of my parents tongue and the tip of my middle finger and marinate there for days. my dad opened my fridge and gave a half-laugh, half-gasp response to the dominance of "space" over actual "substance" present. my mom, post-shower, admitted to using a hand towel to dry herself off (yes, mom, i actually have bath towels. why the hell didn't you ask me!?). both mom and dad were, like, flabbergasted when i brewed a fresh pot of good coffee for them complete with to-go cups, cream, and sugar packets. and i SWEAR they were both proud to call me their daughter when i pointed out the extra rolls of toilet paper underneath the sink. was i raised by wolves?

all in all, our week together was well worth the occasional bickering and hassle that comes with sharing your limited personal space with your parents. and we shared quite a few laughs along the way. you don't realize that you don't have a can opener until you have a can that needs opening...same goes for a bottle of wine.