We went to stay at my folk’s house Friday night, the aim was to allow us to go and eat out in peace. Giving us a break from the baby and allowing the grandparents some time with the baby.
So we went to an old haunt of years ago, a Mexican restaurant called El Rio’s. It was good but they still allowed smoking in there, it put me off the food a bit. I can’t stand eating around other people smoking; still the Sol with lime was a winner. After about two hours we headed back to baby minding duties - feeding, changing and getting deafened by screaming.
Going back to visit your folks is always odd, it isn’t your space anymore, it is theirs. Summed up by this IRC snippet (Normally Jackdaw on IRC, for some reason I was Red Squirrel, don’t ask):
[22:14] ( [Red]SQL) been at parents overnight
[22:14] ( [Red]SQL) tis freaky to go back there
[22:15] (lok) did you sleep in your old room?
[22:15] (lok) :|
[22:16] ( [Red]SQL) it was where my room used to be
[22:16] (lok) have walls been knocked down since?
[22:16] ( [Red]SQL) been so long though, it’s been redecorated at least twice
[22:16] (lok) :/
[22:16] ( [Red]SQL) nothing of mine is in there, not even things like wardrobes
[22:17] ( [Red]SQL) so whatever it is, long since ceased to be my room
[22:17] (lok) :/
[22:17] ( [Red]SQL) just one of the reasons revisting you parents is freaky
[22:19] (patrician |Away) :/
Going back brings old memories to the surface too. Once my mum and me were sat in the lounge, slowly knocking a shuttlecock across the room with badminton rackets, the TV droned on as background noise. The family played a lot of badminton back then, for some reason the rackets have been left lying around.
Suddenly she did a smash, the shuttle shot across the room and bounced safely at on the floor in front of my seat, a shuttle can really hurt so she had taken a risk hitting something so fast toward a 9 year old - we both laughed, it was funny as all we’d done is gentle lobs across the room. We went back to lobs, a few minutes later my dad walked in, and I decided to test something. I knew what she’s done was a risk, and I knew my dad would have gone nuts. So I did the exact same thing.
Although my badminton wasn’t as good as hers I did a smash that bounced neatly at her feet. At this my dad, of course, went nuts. That wasn’t the test though, I looked past him and caught my mums eye, she could have said something, explained, but she didn’t. It was perhaps the first time I had the adult realisation that you’re on your own. Your parents wouldn’t always be there for you - it is just you and the universe.
When you go back there is the memory of getting looked after, and of moving out of that safety zone as you grow up. Makes me wonder when my daughter will feel the same, and move out of the zone.
