Home

I'm sitting on the couch at home, next to a slow-flickering fire and the slightly muted words of Frank Sinatra, considering a hot cup of cider and wondering if I should go out tonight or just stay here and listen to my parents talk about nothing. Well, I know that I'll end up out of here, but I secretly would be just as happy to stay here. How many people can talk to their parents the way I can? They're the ones who taught me how to have a conversation. I don't just mean that they taught me to speak: they taught me to sit around a dinner table for two hours after the meal's over, to simply talk and listen. Both my parents are the perfect mixture of adult and kid - there are times when I can really see who they were at 27, when they first met. I suppose that's the best thing about their relationship, the fact that no matter how old they get, they'll still joke around and laugh and make fun of each other the way they did years before they had a family to take care of.

The best part for me is that I'm literally half of each of them. There was a point last night, after all the family had left, where I was lucky enough to sit in the kitchen and talk with them the way the three of us did last year. I was on the kitchen counter, one of my favorite places to sit, while my mom was sitting at the counter and my dad was standing. It became clear to me that there's something unique about the way they know me, as opposed to the way they know my brother and sister. It's likely that I will always be closest to them, because they taught me how to listen the best. It also helps that the three of us - my mom, dad and I - are all the youngest children. There's another bond there that the don't have with my siblings.

I'm not saying that they play favorites. They certainly don't. But at the same time, I think I'm the luckiest one to know them this well.

hahaha ok they're actually kicking me out of the house. literally. glad to know you guys missed me, too :-)