Moving Back In With The ‘Rents
I remember when I was eighteen, I couldn’t wait to get out of my Mum and Dad’s house and be free, be independent, and “become a man”.
And I did, I flew.
I flew out to the United States of immigrants for my undergrad and thought I would never look back — here’s to never living with Mum and Dad again. I was excited to live by myself, at my own beck and call, without the loving heckling of my parents.
The “loving” part here is key. There was no trouble at home.