I sometimes wonder if I’m too old to be living in my parents’ home.
I pay a good chunk of the mortgage on this new house, so I’m not completely riding for free. My employer is my dad, so carpooling to work when we can saves money and helps the environment. My parents and I get along really well, and I come and go as I please. With this economy the way it is, it seems foolish to try to set out on my own right now. Do I really need to get out and spread my wings?
Then my mom sends me this email.
I left you some spaghetti I fried from my lunch on the stove if you want it for dinner. The sauce is in the frig – you’ll have to heat it separately. The container the sauce is in is NOT suitable for the microwave.
I’m about to leave the house.
I should really get out of here, even if it’s just so that I don’t lose my ability to call myself a man. Or maybe it’s time to build a basement in the house with an entrance to the outside. Then I can tell people I have my own place, which just happens to be below my parents’ place.