Going home.

So, living with my parents again. It’s been four and a half months now and I have to confess that I am really enjoying it. Oh dear.

I moved out of home at the tender age of 17 to live with loser boyfriend number one. All my siblings did the same (moved out, that is, they were too smart for loser boyfriends). I’m the only one to go back.

Seinfeld sums it up perfectly…



The things I like about being home with Mum and Dad:

1. Having people to prepare and eat a meal with
2. Coming home to a house with other people in it
3. Being missed when I don’t come home
4. Spending time with my parents
5. Not having to do grocery shopping (hate it so much!)
6. Not having to cook (not a big fan of that either)
7. Actually having enough washing to do full loads of whites and towels
8. Having a routine
9. Eating fruit and vegetables
10. My Dad waking me up in the morning instead of an anxiety-inducing alarm clock
11. Long, hot showers
12. Significantly reduced chances of having fatal shower accident and not being found for three days

I don’t even care when I tell people now. I’m 37, single with no kids and after growing up in a large family I don’t really like living on my own. I’m certainly not in a position to share with anyone else right now. I don’t even know anyone in a position to share with me anyway. I know I won’t live with Mum and Dad forever but, right now, it is definitely where I belong. I’m aware of how lucky I am to have this option, I know plenty of people who wouldn’t be welcome at home after buggering up as badly as I have. My parents have never given me one moment of retribution or judgment for my sins, they have supported me 100% and continue to do so.

I’d like to see the Trustee try to put a value on that.