Pink Moped

Sooooo I bought a moped. It’s pink. I like it… My Mom thinks I’m going to kill myself on it.

I mean, she’s not necessarily wrong. I can’t even get through a kickball game without a swollen knee and gravel stuck in places I won’t mention to you. But I have learned to embrace the klutziness that is me; my Mom has not, but from a very concerned and adorable motherly standpoint, of course.

It’s an interesting thing, these parents we have. I am not a parent myself so I am still completely baffled at why they still do things for me and continue to love me after the unbelievable amount of crap and ridiculousness that is me and my life. And yes, I say that present tense. Not because I intentionally try to screw with them, but inevitably I will do something really stupid and they never hesitate to help me pick up what I knocked down… which is sometimes me. No doubt I hit the jackpot when it came to parents…  and yet I am still a giant yardsale.

So what would I be like if I had a different set of parents?

I think every child has thought this at one moment or another. Sometimes it’s because you are incredibly grateful for the ones you have, sometimes it’s because you wish you had different ones, and sometimes it’s because you see other parents and try to envision how you would have turned out if they had parented you.

And we can’t choose. We’re just given what we got and vice versa. And that can be incredibly frustrating (especially for the teenage girl I once was) considering we are beings used to choice. We are ingrained with the idea that we are not only allowed to make our own choices but we have the undeniable right to make our own choices. Sometimes I wholeheartedly support my right to choice. But looking back, sometimes I’m stoked on the fact that I had parents who made the right choices for me.

But the thought scenario goes something like this…

“ If my parents were super rich and summered in the Hamptons, I would be happier and more fulfilled and married to the CEO of Gerber (for those of you who know me well- catch that reference?).”

False. I would be a giant high society type brat. Why? Because I’m still a brat, I’m just a grounded brat because of my parents. Imagine if my brattiness was amplified by wealth. Eek. I even cringe at that thought.

There are of course a million different parent scenarios of which I can and have entertained but they all lead me back to the fact that I am unbelievably lucky to have grown up in the exact way that I did, raised by my two lovable, generous, passionate, silly, mistake making, genuinely concerned, hard working, edifying parents.

Considering all the contributions these two have given to me, instilled in me, and subliminally passed to me… I have a difficult time envisioning I would be anything like myself today without them. And that makes me sad… Even though I am a yardsale.