Two big moves in a five month period… not my smartest decision. Still, here I am, sitting in my new living room surrounded by piles of books and half unpacked boxes. Body is physically exhausted but mental endorphins are jumping off the walls. When my step-dad pulled away after he helped unload my hitched trailer of belongings, I felt a large weight lift off of my shoulders. Living with my parents was unproductive, stressful, and depressing. With 1200 miles between us for the past five years, I’m realizing that in their absence, I had turned them in to characters with traits, feelings, and comedic timing that my real life parents will never live up to. Still, when I’m away, I get to portray these characters as my actual family, and in doing so, I think I fool myself. At least enough to be sorely disappointed that my actual parents aren’t the type of people that would ever be waiting for me in the airport when my plane lands. This sets the tone for the rest of the visit (be it five days or five months) that’s filled with more reasons to be disappointed than reasons to feel loved.
Still, I cling to the sparse and sporadic moments of comedy when I look back retrospectively. If I didn’t, the characters I’ve created wouldn’t exist and I wouldn’t carry on in a perpetual state of denial. I started packing about 40 hours before my move. At this point, I’m a seasoned pro at cutting my life down to size mid-sized moving boxes at any given point. This was my first local move so it was nice to not have to be so limiting and also nice that I could more readily steal stuff from my parents. Whenever I was home alone during my 40 hours of packing, I would run through the house looking for things that wouldn’t be missed. Ziploc freezer bags, Reynolds wrap, batteries, screw drivers – you know, the stuff you need but would prefer not to pay for yourself.
During this time frame I also made approximately twenty individual visits to Marshalls and Ross which, until recently, I had always thought I was better than. This attitude I held for twenty-three years is probably the biggest mistake I’ve made in my entire life. I am officially addicted to discount shopping. So anyways, during these visits, I would go and I swear to god I would black out. When I’d finally come to, I’d be walking out of the store with bags and bags of the most random kitchenware. I didn’t have a dish set or flatware at the time but thanks to Marshalls I was the proud owner of a half-sized casserole dish, multiple pitchers, and a water percolator.
At some point during the packing process I decided that I wanted a robe. I’ve always kind of wanted a robe, most likely fueled by my constant desire to at least have the option of being naked whenever I feel like. It was constantly listed on my Christmas lists growing up – but oddly enough was always the one thing neither of my parents got me. Moving in with someone new seemed like the perfect excuse to finally go out and buy one and my new lovers – Ross and Marshall – were sure to have them. I’ve never been more heartbroken by someone I loved. Neither of them had robes.
I got over it pretty quickly because I remembered my parents had big, fluffy, terry cloth robes that I was sure they wouldn’t miss. And so, during one of my ransacking sessions of my parent’s house, I went upstairs to the master suite to grab one. It wasn’t in the bathroom which was a good thing – if it wasn’t there, it was in one of the closets which also meant that it wasn’t in constant use and probably wouldn’t be missed for a while. It wasn’t in my mom’s closet so I checked my stepdad’s. There it was, hanging towards the back, and I realized how much better my life was about to get now that a robe was going to be involved. I made a grab for it and noticed something protruding from the robe’s pocket. It took me half a second to realize it was a vibrator. It took me another second to realize it was my Mom’s vibrator. And it took me yet another second to realize it was in my stepdad’s closet which meant that he was probably the one using it on my mom.
Karma has never been a bigger bitch. I will never steal from my parent’s again. I will never steal from my parent’s again. I will never steal from my parent’s again.
