The guide to living with your parents after you have already flown the coupe.
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I have no guide. Fuck, it is a daily trial.
What I have discovered in the last twenty-four hours are two things:
1) If your mother comes in to chastise you for leaving a paper napkin on the kitchen counter because there was no trash bag available by telling you that she spends her days following you around, picking up after you, turning off lights after you, and just generally babysitting you while she has her hands on her hips and is speaking to you in a tone that generally resembles the way a mother tells a three year old not to touch a hot stove, it is NOT advisable to laugh. Do whatever it is that you have to do to keep your composure. Bite your cheek, pinch your arm, think of your favorite pet getting hit by a car... Whatever you do, don't laugh.
2) If you successfully manage to make your mother cry before 8 AM by just being in her presence, either you look very intimidating or sonething is terribly wrong.
On the topic of #2, pra tel, why is is that mother's tears, whether menopause enduced or otherwise, make the flesch of their womb feel like complete and total dogshit?
On other news fronts, I am determined to have a good fucking day.
Feel free to assist my cause by leaving something happy in the comment box.