I love my parents. I really do. But sometimes, I want to run to Ireland and hide in a pub somewhere, not having any communication with them whatsoever.
My parents are awesome people. They really are. They divorced when I was eleven, and I couldn’t have been any happier about that. They are much better off, individually, as friends than they ever were a married couple. My mom remarried a great dude and they just celebrated their 18th anniversary together. My dad never remarried but to anyone who knows him, this is not a shocking thing. At all.
Yet … sometimes … I have days like this. My mom calls me this morning at 9.23am.
Mom: “Hi honey! Are you at work?”
It’s 9.23am. I work, everyday, and start at nine. This is simply, common knowledge.
QT: “Yup, at work mom. What’s up?”
Mom: “Well your dad called and he wondered why you didn’t tell him you had that doctor’s appointment last week.”
I can’t help but thinking, WTF.
QT: “Uhhh, well mom, I don’t usually tell dad when I go see the OB-GYN.”
Mom: “Well honey, you know he worries.”
QT: “Wait. Why is dad calling you about my doctor appointments?”
Mom: “He didn’t call me about your doctor appointments. He called me to see how you are doing and I told him about your doctor appointment.”
QT: “Mother. I don’t think dad needs to know every time I hit the OB-GYN! Seriously!”
Mom: “Well you told me, so I told him.”
QT: “I don’t understand why you two can’t be like normal divorced people and just not talk anymore.”
Mom laughs and says, “Because once we loved each other enough to make you, that’s why.”
Then I thought,