still the three year old
Anecdote: Worried About Parents
A little boy was telling his friend this, "My dad slaves away at work to provide for everything I want. My mom slaves away at home to cook for me, prepare my meals and clothes, and clean the house. I'm getting worried."
His friend asks, "Why?"
To which he answers, "I'm worried that they might run away."
* * *
When I read this one, I laughed. I could sympathize with the little guy. After all, it's pretty much the same in my case except it's my mom who works, and my dad, the househusband.
At the age of 25, I still live with my folks and pretty much still a kid in their eyes. I'm very much comfortable with it and I don't want to move out unless I really have to (i.e. when I get married). I like the idea of free food, free place to stay in, free rides, with parents caring for me in every way possible.
It's only them who can actually get away with emotional (and financial) blackmail. Last night alone, I was home early and they were about to have dinner. My dad called on me, and I started to whine about not wanting to eat cause of my diet. In the end, I was forced to sit at the dinner table and my mom placed some rice on the plate, telling me that one meal won't hurt my diet. After four days of not eating rice and a decent meal, I ate my first with heavy guilt.
Only my parents can do that to me.
They have been there for me when I went through my first, second, and third breakups, falling out with my bestfriend of 13years, and bad academic years in school. Love me despite my inability to cook and keep my room straight, strongheadedness and independent thinking. Stood by me with the choices I made with school, work and life.
Only my parents can do that for me.
One time they picked me up from the gym, my mom asked me how old a particular relative was when she got married. To which I answered, "Around 28."
She laughed and told me I am turning 26 and I'm still the three year old kid in the red shirt my parents fondly remember me with. They will always see me as the kid who smiles and laughs a lot and when she does her eyes disappear. (I attached the picture so that you guys would have a graphic idea of how I looked back then.)
I know parents will always be parents. They will forever think of their kids as kids and treat them as such. But I love my parents for that. Maybe not always. But I like the idea that I get to be cuddled like a child at the end of a rough adult day.
A little boy was telling his friend this, "My dad slaves away at work to provide for everything I want. My mom slaves away at home to cook for me, prepare my meals and clothes, and clean the house. I'm getting worried."
His friend asks, "Why?"
To which he answers, "I'm worried that they might run away."
When I read this one, I laughed. I could sympathize with the little guy. After all, it's pretty much the same in my case except it's my mom who works, and my dad, the househusband.
At the age of 25, I still live with my folks and pretty much still a kid in their eyes. I'm very much comfortable with it and I don't want to move out unless I really have to (i.e. when I get married). I like the idea of free food, free place to stay in, free rides, with parents caring for me in every way possible.
It's only them who can actually get away with emotional (and financial) blackmail. Last night alone, I was home early and they were about to have dinner. My dad called on me, and I started to whine about not wanting to eat cause of my diet. In the end, I was forced to sit at the dinner table and my mom placed some rice on the plate, telling me that one meal won't hurt my diet. After four days of not eating rice and a decent meal, I ate my first with heavy guilt.
Only my parents can do that to me.
They have been there for me when I went through my first, second, and third breakups, falling out with my bestfriend of 13years, and bad academic years in school. Love me despite my inability to cook and keep my room straight, strongheadedness and independent thinking. Stood by me with the choices I made with school, work and life.
Only my parents can do that for me.
One time they picked me up from the gym, my mom asked me how old a particular relative was when she got married. To which I answered, "Around 28."
She laughed and told me I am turning 26 and I'm still the three year old kid in the red shirt my parents fondly remember me with. They will always see me as the kid who smiles and laughs a lot and when she does her eyes disappear. (I attached the picture so that you guys would have a graphic idea of how I looked back then.)
I know parents will always be parents. They will forever think of their kids as kids and treat them as such. But I love my parents for that. Maybe not always. But I like the idea that I get to be cuddled like a child at the end of a rough adult day.
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