They’re bound to be tired of me by now

It’s been a little over a year since I moved back in with the parents…something I should have done after college to save some cash and pay off some bills but I’m stubborn and didn’t so here I am now.

For the past year, I’ve taken over the “home theater” in the basement, and I’ve been working on paying off some bills so that when the time comes for me to get a house (which should be soon, I got REAL close about a month ago, but alas…seller sucked) I have enough money not to live paycheck to paycheck and have to eat Ramen noodles every night.

When I first moved back, there were some rules set up – had to wash my own dishes and put them in the dishwasher and had to save some money. Oh and there was the one about throwing stuff away from the coffee table so the dog wouldn’t eat it.

My only rule for them? Gimme about 20 minutes of silence when I get home. On account of I really just don’t feel like talking to anyone right after work. Especially about how work was.

I’m happy to say all rules have worked out pretty well, except for the couple times I forgot something on the table and Dad forgot not to talk to me after work.

Other than that, we’ve had a pretty good year, I think. The food’s been good, I’m pretty sure the pantry is a magic closet that never runs out of tequila, we’ve watched a bunch of new shows and I’ve let them hijack my Netflix account (shhh).

They’re some of my favorite drinking partners, especially when I can convince them to get up to El Toro and have two-for-one margaritas every other week. (Or sometimes twice a week, we really don’t have a set schedule there). Also, they have like, all the TV channels.

There was that one time when Dad couldn’t open a drawer that doesn’t have any of his stuff in it anyway, so he threw out my makeup bag with a brand new eyeliner in it. Luckily I saw it about 3 minutes later and he bought me two new eyeliners for Christmas to make up for it.

I make jokes a lot about living with them but I of course am only kidding. They’re kind of the awesome-est and I’m ridiculously lucky to have them. They’re not rushing me out of here and they’re also not treating me like I’m still in high school(which was the last time I lived here full-time).

They’re helping me a lot, and I hope to be able to pay them back for it someday. But for now, they seem to be settling alright with the occasional dinner paid for by me and access to Netflix. It evens out, right?

Published by Laura

I've got a few stories to tell.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: