I survived the weekend with my mother. Well, five days actually. It was nice 'in retrospect' meaning I was glad I was there but Im happier to be a grown up living on my own.
She made 'casserole' and I felt bad because I started laughing when she presented it to me. I told her I didn't eat much meat lately so she layered tortilla chips, macaroni and cheese, creamed corn, and more cheese into a huge yellow pile and baked it. Why did I laugh? I don't know. Maybe its because I havnt eaten anything marked 'casserole' since I was a kid. Or maybe it was because my mother was back in her role playing mom and I was back in mine playing obnoxious, eye rolling teenager.
Parents are great to visit. I love them. But staying with them is trying at times. She lectured me on clothes and makeup and I told her she didn't understand the times.
There is one thing we agreed on: Netflix is awesome.
At least there was something to bridge the gap.
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