Over the years, we've attempted to walk along a tight-rope line with our relationship in hopes of finding a way we can get along with each other. Their mentality runs along the lines of "Our way or the highway" and I've grown up viewing them both as wallets with legs.
"Don't say that about them," The Baby admonishes lightly. She shifts in her seat uncomfortably like she does every time the rift between me and our parents comes up in conversation.
"You can't honestly tell me that, aside from their money, they've given you much else in life." I argue back. "They brag about how they've gotten us to where we are but, really, they've just swiped a few cards over the years. Our brains, our abilities have allowed us to succeed; not them."
The Baby scoffs before I even finish and insists, "They've done a lot for us," and launches into what feels like an itemized list of things our parents have given up for the sake of our family. I allow a few, dismiss a lot, before the Baby points out that it wasn't so much that my parents haven't done a lot for me aside from pulling out their wallet, but rather I haven't ever come across anything in my life that I actually needed them (not their money) for.
The Baby's had a bit of a...colorful childhood (her middle school pictures of orange hair speaks very loud volumes in heavy, hispanic accents). As such, she's had her shares of issues and problems that our parents have had to bail her out of. In her own words, her relationship with them has been tried, tested, and proven true over the years. Me? Not so much.
We spend the rest of lunch arguing/talking about our relationships with our parents. I accept that they suck because they won't compromise with me and I concede that I'd rather slit my wrists than follow their (admittedly ridiculous) rules.
"I think you just need to sit down together and try to understand each other." Baby says placatingly.
Part of me thinks she's right. The other part doesn't really care either way.
