Goodness knows, none of us are perfect. We have our ups and downs--individually and together--but at the end of the day, we support each other and love each other. I am particularly grateful that my parents let me save a lot of money by living with them. They put up with my moods, my odd dietary demands ("more goat cheese! Coconut milk! Can you buy one of those enormous bags of spinach?") and allow me to have my own crisper drawer in the fridge for various things, like all that goat cheese, the enormous bag of spinach (I use it in everything) and my "breakfast packs," which are food storage containers with spinach, black beans, onion, tomato, sweet pepper, ground cumin and chili powder, ready to grab and toss into a frying pan each morning. I make seven of them every weekend, to prep for the week ahead.
I must be hungry, because this post is becoming more about food and less about the awesome parents who put up with having an adult child boomerang back into their space, at the height of their retirement (though having a built-in house- and pet-sitter when they go on their various trips is a bonus for them). I have a spot in the garage, access to the washer, dryer and clothesline, all the Tetley I can drink (and I can drink a lot), and, as long as I make my bed every day and spruce up my bathroom before they have company, they're okay with having me around. ; )
So yes. I am thankful for Mom and Dad. Besides taking me in as an adult, they raised me pretty darned well, too. I've never doubted for one second that I was loved in my whole life. That, my friends, is a huge blessing.
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| Dad and I on my 21st birthday. |
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| Mom and I, a few Christmases ago. |
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| At the Charles Schulz Museum in 2009. |
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