Ah childhood, we’ve all got one, and I find it amazing how different we turn out based upon it. I often wish I had had a better childhood than I did, as I’m sure many many individuals wish, but I’m not here to lament or rant.

I’ve heard it more than once from my husband, Don, that he’s very proud of how he was raised and I find that fascinating since I can not claim the same of mine. I was raised with a really wack set of standards and expectations and my parents are really weird. I know, I know, everyone says their parents are weird, but you haven’t met weird until you meet my parents. They are weird with a capital W. For example, I was pretty sheltered from some things, but exposed to other things that I probably shouldn’t have been.

When I look back I wonder where was the harm in watching MTV or even VH1 and hanging out with my friends after the football game or concert at the local steak n’ shake. Nor was I allowed to attend parties at my friends’ houses. Sure things happen at parties—alchohol, drugs, accidents—and you could argue from a parents perspective that if I didn’t go to those so called riot fests, then I wouldn’t get injured or killed. Just look at what happened to that couple in Nebraska in 2005. But hanging out with friends are the things kids do, it’s called socialization, hell even puppies are socialized, it’s how we learn to develop our leadership and decision making skills. Kids don’t learn these skills sitting around at home in their rooms.

The list of things I wasn’t allowed to do, see or, go to was longer than my arm and by 11th grade all that pent up sequestered energy reared it’s ugly head and culminated in me receiving a concussion and my mother receiving a tetanus shot. Fun times, fun times. Of course that just lead to a tighter leash and more animosity (imagine that). But I digress into ranting.

As a teenager I often figured relations with my parents would grow more conciliatory in my adulthood, however this doesn’t seem to be the case. They’re still just as weird as ever. I know I sound like a resentful brat who should just get over it, but there’s more there, lots more. Maybe some day I’ll get into it.