My parents are visiting for the week! I love having them around. There’s something amazing about being totally accepted for your weirdness and finding the source to blame simultaneously. This is what they usually look like to me.
Mom tends to wear smaller sleeves, though.
I watched these two and their disgusting PDA all growing up. It was gross, then. But, I’m so very thankful for it now. They are one of the reasons that I’ll continue to smack Biceps on the backside every chance I get until I’m put in the grave.
I had an idyllic childhood-not perfect by no means-but pretty awesome. I wasn’t allowed to do everything I wanted to do, my parents weren’t my best friends-they were my parents, and I had to work for any luxury I wanted to own.
I have been spanked, banned from tv, written several thousand inches out of the dictionary to counterbalance my “misuse of words” (thanks for expanding my vocabulary, guys!), told mom I hated her-once (this did not go well), came home late from curfew, dated boys with mohawks..
But, I always knew that I was protected and loved. Even when I tossed my hair at them and said very sassy things. They loved me, no matter what.
Now that we’re all supposedly adults (I revert from time to time), we get to do this when they come to visit. Yes, we all wear really cool vintage outfits and drink beer.
Our relationship has changed from them being my parents into them being my best friends. I think that’s a good sign of parenting.
Now, it’s just good times, tons of food, and lots of fun. And the occasional beer.