My Uninvited Inheritance

Recently I have returned to my ancestral homestead, much to my chagrin. Consequently I have been spending copious amounts of time with my mother and father. Normally, I would see them once a month; occasionally talking on the phone or texting (I have rebuffed both on Facebook, multiple times). I haven’t lived at home, on the regular, since I was 17. I am simply unused to residing with people I share DNA with. As you might imagine when I was 17 I was a reasonable, level-headed, pliable person (Read: bitchy, annoying teen). Occasionally, my parents, in an effort to stifle my soul-song, provoked me into stimulating if base discussions (ie: Nu-uh!).

Slightly older, I have developed a more mature relationship with my parental units. True, since returning on a more permanent basis my hair has fallen out in clumps and I’ve had to purchase a mouth guard to stop myself grinding my teeth to a fine powder in my sleep. Also I seem to have developed a strange allergy to my parents’ house. 15 minutes after crossing the threshold I’m a sneezing, hay-fever-y mess. Psychosomatic you say? Perhaps. But, perceived or fully real stress symptoms aside, my time at home has helped me become more observant.

I am slowly perfecting the art of keeping my mouth shut as a means of avoiding arguments. So, so slowly. This keeping my trap plugged is why I’ve become a veritable Harriet the Spy. One thing I have noticed is that that my parents are tragically and utterly unintentionally irritating. Now, most children will contend that their creators are “like just so lame!” but I am now able to pinpoint exactly why I’ll require dentures, and therapy, by the time I’m 30. I’m sure I’ll detail the peccadilloes in later posts, but suffice it to say there are many (My mother incessantly twirls her hair and tucks the twirled locks behind her ear. To save it for later?).

In any case, the truly frightening result of my scrutiny is of course the inevitability that I am turning into them. Wholly. Gestures, turns of phrase, annoying habits, the lot. Turning my keen eyes inward I can perceive the ways I’m a total aggravating git. But I’m choosing to blame my parents. Watching their antics has infected my psyche! Is there any way to break the cycle of intolerable annoyance? If one day I produce progeny how will I keep from destroying their personalities by passing down terrible traits they inherited from my line of the family?!

Swiss boarding school it is.

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What I'm Listening to:    Last Night at the Jetty By Panda Bear