Yes, ok, I KNOW Mom…

After Christmas dinner, I spent more than enough time hanging out at my parent’s house and ached for Hoboken. My mom suggested that I stay over the night because of that evening’s traffic, but have you ever done the commute from Middletown to NYC in the morning? MISERABLE. Last time I sat in traffic for three hours and almost had a stroke. So I packed about 7 bags (seriously, I looked like I was homeless) and got out of there nice and early.

Apparently this was a typical idea because when I arrived at the train station, the majority of the people where about my age standing and waiting for the train with their dads. My dad left, I guess not occurring to him to keep me company, which was fine because I preferred to sit and people watch and listen til my train arrived anyway.

“I don’t know about shit, but both places sound pretty miserable to me, ” said a son to his Irish American father. They were talking about the son’s friend overseas and he couldn’t remember where his friend was – Afghanistan or Iraq – but knew he wasn’t planning on going to either one.

(In an Irish accent), “Why don’t you put your boots on, it’s mighty cold out”.

Son- Why should I? It’s not bad out. That would entail me to have to take all my stuff out of my bag to find them.

Subject over. They start talking about something new.

Five minutes later, the dad mentions something AGAIN about the boots and the son still resisted. Then the son ran to the bathroom, asking his father to watch his things. While gone, dad took it upon himself to root through the bag and pull out the boots. When the son returned, he rolled his eyes at his dad, sighed, and put on the boots.

It must be difficult for parents when their children are in their mid-twenties, teetering the line of childhood and adulthood. We are capable to live on our own, work at real jobs, and support ourselves, but also continue to be spoiled by parents to a certain extent and often need advice on unknown dealings in the adult world. But what are the boundaries? How far can they push until we revert back to the sarcastic-teenager “Ok! Fine! I wish I never was born”- door slammers?

My parents, I’m sure like everyone else’s, make me feel like an idiot half the time due to the questions and nagging I get. Some of the classics include, “Well Kristine, you can’t burn the candle at both ends, you need to live within your means, you need to balance your check book, blah blah…”

My favorite dad question of the week was, (on Christmas day driving to the train station), “I presume you check the holiday time schedule. It is Christmas and I’m sure they are different”.
Me, without thinking, say in a 14 year old voice, “Um. I know. I’m not retarded. Obviously.”

When do we become adults in their eyes? Do we ever? Hm. I don’t think so. To this day, My 87 year old grandma nags and dumb question my 59 yr old father and right away my dad answers in that familiar “I KNOW MOM” tone. Just shows you that no matter how old you may be, to your parents you timelessly remain their sweet little 8 year old who know nothing about nothing.

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