A downside of having unconventional parents was their willingness to say “go ahead, leave.”
And I would but I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t have any friends. There was no mall or hangout. So I’d hide behind an apple tree in the backyard until it got dark or a rotted apple boinked me on the head. When I returned, nobody said or did anything. It’s like they never even noticed I was gone.
Jeffrey could you take the garbage out? Honestly, you should have done it hours ago.
No welcome wagon. Not even a glance in my direction. One time when I needed some attention I declared that I never asked to be born ya know.
Did you say something? Take your shoes off. I just waxed that floor.
So it was weird when I stayed at their house at the age of thirty while moving from Boston back to New York. They did a complete one eighty on the whole disappearing act.
Where are you going?
Can you pick me up a few things while you’re out?
Leave a number where we can reach you.
And if you’re gonna be late, call us. We worry.
They suddenly became downright intrusive. Every move I made was analyzed. It was only a couple of weeks until I could move into my new apartment but it seemed like a stint on death row. The night before I moved, I took them out to a thank you dinner. I was greeted at the car with:
Well you’re not going to wear that are you?