Moving back in with your parents as an adult is difficult. It’s difficult for you, it’s difficult for your parents. That said, there are some benefits. For me, there are many, many benefits. But perhaps the most troubling effect of my return to my parents’ formerly empty nest is the resumption of adolescent behavior patterns. My parents love me. A lot. They also think I’m a total screw up. Granted, I haven’t done much to mitigate that initial opinion. After all, I’m 36 and living with my parents.
But sometimes, okay often, I feel like a bratty teen. It usually goes a little something like this. And yes, this is an actual example from this morning (that Parent 1 would say is not transcribed properly).
The Scene: My parents are talking to me through my closed bedroom door from their bedroom across the hall as I try to get dressed and ready for work.
Parent 1: Don’t forgot to get [your son’s] lacrosse stuff together.
Me (cheerfully): Okay, I will. Thanks!
Parent 2: I think the stuff is in her car.
Parent 1: No, it’s not. He had a game on Saturday.
Parent 2: When I moved her car on Sunday, the stuff was still in her car.
Me (trying to put an end to this discussion): Yes, the stuff is in my car. Yes, I will bring it inside before I leave.
Parent 1: Why is it still in your car?
Parent 2: I told you it was still in the car.
Me (through gritted teeth): Don’t worry! I’ll bring it in!
Parent 2: Don’t drive to work with it still in the car. He’s got practice tonight.
Me (completely losing it): I’VE GOT IT. THANKS!
Parent 1: Just make sure you put it in one place so I know where it is.
Me (shouting, loudly): YES! I’LL DO THAT! I’VE SAID I’LL DO IT FIVE TIMES NOW! I’VE GOT IT.
Parent 1 (low opinion of me now confirmed, again): Well, there’s no need to yell.