They still scare me

"Who's gonna take it best?"

Growing up, that's the question I would ask myself when I had to break some bad news to Mom and Dad.

I would assess the situation at hand, decide who would take it easier on me, and go from there.

It wasn't an exact science, of course.  Sometimes I would judge horribly wrong, and suffer the wrath of the parent I thought would let me off easy.

Not that I was a bad kid.  I was actually very much a "good girl" when I think about the kind of situations teenagers can get into.  And my parents knew that.

But I did get myself into some situations that got me in big trouble warranted the ol' talking to.

And I really hated disappointing my parents.  I respected them.  I cared about their opinions.

And I knew that they had raised me to be smart, make good decisions, and not do anything that would embarrass them me.

When I was a senior in high school I was involved in "an incident" (let's just leave it at that) at a restaurant one night.

Literally my first thought was, "How am I going to tell Mom and Dad?" Because I knew that not telling them was never an option.  They always found out the truth.

That night, though, I was more concerned about telling Dad.  I remember calling home on the way back from the restaurant and being relieved that Mom answer the phone.

"Is Dad sleeping?" I asked.

He was.  A sigh of relief.

"I have to talk to you when I get home about something that happened tonight at XYZ restaurant," I told my Mom.

When I got home, I sat on the edge of my parents' bed and relayed the story to my Mom (my Dad is out like a light when he sleeps) - the truth, very close to the whole truth and pretty much nothing but the truth.

Of course, I ended it with, "Can you tell Dad?  I'm too scared."

So the next morning, I woke up to Dad standing over my bed.  Not looking too happy.

But at least he had already heard the story from Mom.  It lessened the blow.

(Do not, however, get the impression that Mom is the pushover of the two.  Sometimes Dad was definitely the go-to guy when you needed an ally.)

The funny thing is, though, even now as an adult, I still find that I don't want to do anything that will disappoint Mom and Dad.

I still hold their opinions in high regard.  I love spending time and having fun with them.  I love that there is a mutual respect between us, and I never want to jeopardize that.

Which is why, from time to time, I still need to enlist one of them as a go-between, just like when I was younger.

Just recently, I had to borrow one of Dad's company vans to transport a load of chairs from a rental company.  Dad's company would need the van back first thing Monday morning.

So when I found out that the rental company wouldn't be able to take the chairs back until Monday morning, I felt that old familiar feeling of nervousness creep in.  How was I going to get around this one?

So I did what had always worked for me before... I went to Mom.

I'm not ashamed.

My name is Jane. I'm twenty-seven years old and I'm still afraid of my parents.

- Jane 

Comments

[markira]

Yeah, I'm 36 and I am, too.

[Kara]

I call my mom My Benevolent Overlord. She's still SO the boss of me.

[Manic Mommy]

You're going to leave us hanging with 'an accident' at a restaurant? I'm thinking you were either caught drinking underage or trying to chew and screw.

[pinks & blues girls]

ManicMommy - haha! Neither, actually! Keep in mind this was 10 years ago... I did get so mad at a waitress who was super mean to me that I threw my drink on her while I was leaving (if you ever want to silence a restaurant, do this sometime… and no, I don’t usually act like that, but push me enough and I will).

There ya go!