Sunday, August 9, 2009

Where is the milk or "Things Heard Here on a Sunday Morning"

My parents are gone this weekend. As I write this in my pajamas on their couch, they are off romping in the ocean and having a grand ol' time (This is known as good old fashion Catholic guilt).

When I stumbled downstairs and frantically searched for something to eat, I called to my mom out of habit "Where the fuck is the milk".

It was then that I realized that my parents are pretty damn amazing.

My parents are the kind of people who display the definition of unconditional love on a daily, weekly and eternal basis.

I know that I could call my mom right now and tell her that instead of becoming a teacher (which we have both already mutually financed) I want to move to Greece and do daily reenactments of Mamma Mia! and you know what she would say, well after she would get pissy for interrupting the remaining hours of their vacation. Something along the lines of "Well Alright Whitney, Well look up tickets to Greece when I get home". That's the kind of people they are.

Growing up I thought this is just what parents do, love and support and do whatever they can to help their spawn reach their dreams no matter what they are. Working with kids has helped me not only appreciate my parents more on a mature level but has helped me realize that loving and supporting my sister and I in the way that they do is not what all parents do, it's just what kickass parents do.

Now Mom, come home soon because I really need to know where the milk is.

No comments:

Post a Comment