Living With My Parents is Pure Entertainment

I am currently in Chicago but thought I’d share this lovely tidbit with you all from my drafts folder.

It was only a couple weeks ago that I wrote the first post about how crazy it’s been living with my parents. You can read that here. Now here’s part two. I didn’t think I’d have enough for two of these but apparently the entertainment my parents can provide is unlimited. I’m sure there will be a part three, even.

  • My father has a bad habit of falling asleep in his favorite chair in the living room, while watching TV. Especially if he’s under a blanket. At 8pm. And regardless of how tired he is, my mother will beat him with a magazine until he wakes up and takes away his blanket. Ah, love.
  • My mother will get angry over the silliest things. Like how I’m not friends with her on Facebook. Doesn’t matter that she’s not actually on Facebook. It’s the worst offense I could possibly commit, not being friends with her online. It’s not like I don’t see her EVERY DAY.
  • My dad is remodeling the bathroom. At random times he’ll either start talking to himself or will start singing songs about tiling to the tune of some christmas carol. It’s official. We’re related.
  • My mom has this bad habit of waving out matches after she’s done lighting candles. She learned her lesson the other night when the lit match head when flying and her bedspread went up in a burst of flames. Luckily it put itself out pretty quickly but not before everyone started screaming bloody murder.
  • My dad dropped a beam on my head and nearly knocked me unconscious (everything went black for a hot second). After he finished laughing hysterically, he asked if I was ok. I then ran into the door frame, the banister and it was decided I should sit down. I’m pretty sure he gave me a concussion. And a mild case of whiplash.
  • I’ve noticed a trend with my family and books. If we’re reading a book we really like, we’ll often wander around and find someone to read a particular passage that we enjoyed. I thought I was the only one who did this (and it’s very rare that I do. Only when reading two particular authors–Augusten Burroughs and now Jonathan Safran Foer) but my brother, dad and mom all have been sighted doing the same thing.
  • My parents’ pets are so incredibly spoiled. My mom’s dog sleeps in his own  full-sized chair, the cats have ten million beds to choose from and remember the retarded cat? He sleeps with me usually in my small little bed. You wouldn’t think cats take up much space but this cat SPRAWLS. I found him on his back with one arm hanging off the bed the other day. Imagine trying to sleep with that AND have to deal with claws. His new thing lately has been the mirror in my room. It’ll be 3am and I’ll hear a soft scratching noise. I’ll look over and find him scratching at his own reflection in the mirror, over and over and over again. You may think ohhh that’s so adorable! But no.  IT’S ANNOYING.
  • You know those little shower caddies that hang over the shower head? My father had an epic battle against one the other day. I don’t know why, I don’t know how you can even have a battle, but it there was a lot of swearing involved. I believe my father referred to it as a motherfucking piece of shit. I had to shove my fist in my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.
  • The one thing I’ve learned is how to drink by myself. I’ve gotten stellar at the glass or three of wine “at dinner”. My mother really introduced this concept to me but I think I’ve taken it to a whole other level. I have three open bottles of wine in the fridge that are solely mine. THREE. Alcoholic? I have potential.

Now I must go do Chicago things with the wonderful Jenn in CHICAGO. Have I mentioned I’ve never been to Chicago before? BECAUSE I HAVEN’T. I don’t know if Jenn is prepared for this kind of excitement.


Why moving in with my parents was not the brightest idea I ever had.

I must have been on some pretty strong “I’m going to Europe” drugs over the summer to make me think moving in with my parents was going to be a ton of fun. Sure, it’s gotten better. I’m no longer angry and frustrated and since landing a couple freelance gigs plus some design work, they have been off my back about getting a job. We’re getting along pretty well, surprisingly.

But (and there’s always a but) I’m living with my PARENTS. While trying to have a social life and date. Explaining why you live with your parents to a guy you could potentially date is always fun and I’m sure is very limiting. I certainly wouldn’t date a guy who still lived with his parents.

Nevertheless, I’m giving it my best, even though it isn’t the best situation. So far I’ve learned a lot about my family. Like….

  • My parents bought an intercom system and gave me one half of it so that they can call me without straining their vocal chords for dinner.. So far it has been used by my mom to check if its working properly  (can you hear me now?) and by my dad to tell me the dog barked when he sneezed. When dinner was ready? They screamed up the stairs. Oh, parents.
  • I definitely inherited my father’s ability to start a project (or ten) and not finish them before starting new ones. My father has, count it, THREE bathrooms that are in various stages of unfinished. My mom’s bathtub is still untiled, my bathroom is in the stages of getting fixed but my shower has taken 2 weeks to tile and I don’t think its going to be and somewhere in Ann Arbor is a bathroom he’s fixing for free that still isn’t done. Bravo, Dad.
  • My mom has been hounding me for a week to do laundry. She doesn’t understand how I possibly have anymore underwear left or clothes at all. She must not have gotten the memo about how I constantly would go buy Victoria Secret’s 5 for $25 when I ran out of clean underwear and didn’t want to go to the laundromat. I got skills on making my clothes last.
  • My mother only comes up to the third floor if she hasn’t met her daily quota of yelling. My brother and I live up here and my dad is sometimes working on the bathroom. Usually if my dad is downstairs she’ll get her yelling out of her system. But if my brother’s been at work, I’ve been hiding upstairs and my dad’s been up here working, she’ll come upstairs just so she can yell at someone. I think she got the intercom just so she doesn’t have to climb all those stairs just to yell.
  • I have gotten extremely lazy and rarely get out of my pajamas until past noon (today is no exception!). Sometimes its three or four o’clock by the time I get jeans and an actual sweater on (just so when I reappear downstairs for food, I don’t get yelled at.). Luckily, I’m not alone. Its also rare my mother gets out of her robe before noon so at least we keep each other company.
  • My parents have date nights on Friday nights which is really cute. Except they both forget and when it comes time for dinner my mother will then remember and yell at my dad for forgetting he was supposed to take her out for a date. My mom needs to take the yelling down a notch. Or twenty.
  • The Christmas Tree is like the elephant in the room. It has sat there undecorated and ignored for a week and a half. We all ignore it, hoping someone else will decorate it and put presents underneath it. Christmas spirit is severely missing in this household.
  • I have forgotten how hard it is to eat while my brother is around. It’s like the Amazing Race: Ashley’s Kitchen around here, with each family member trying to get at the food before the giant does and eats it all. I lose. OFTEN.
  • My parents will ask me for help on their computer. A couple months later, when something goes wrong with the computer, they’ll point out the time I helped them then blame me for breaking it. Umm. Yeah cause THAT makes sense.

It’s only a couple more days til Christmas and while I’m feeling more festive, I still haven’t finished my Christmas shopping. And I still haven’t written out christmas cards, much less sent any. This holiday has been one big EPIC FAIL.

The New Year better bring back my motivation, a steady job and my own place.