As a teenager I used to take spending time with my parents for granted: Sunday walks in the countryside ruined days when I’d rather be brooding in my room alone and listening to Dashboard Confessional. My worst nightmare was being dragged around museums attempting to be educated on how steam trains shaped modern Britain: I’d rather have gone shopping in Playboy for a tacky slogan t-shirt or popped into Claire’s Accessories for a pair of Pat Butcher earrings.
Fast forward years later and I feel so blessed for every moment I get to spend with my parents. Evenings sat watching reality TV with a glass of wine and half hour debates over whose turn it is to buy the Chinese takeaway are the perfect remedy to the stresses of everyday life. I still can’t muster up the strength to get excited about the revolution of the cotton industry in the 1800s. I think I’ve used the phrase “oh, I never knew that” at least 5 times this afternoon: I’m just grateful that they care enough to take me. I only wish that I had a DeLorean to show them that 10 years ago.