10 Stages of Moving Back in With the Parents

There comes a point in some of our lives where we have to forgo our hopes and dreams and resign ourselves to the fact that we will be having quiet sex or none at all for the foreseeable future. A time to suck up our pride and head back to the rents for a while. Usually it’s for financial reasons or it serves as a sweet little haven from the big bad smoke of the city. Either way there are emotional stages from the moment you arrive and they go a little something like this…


Wooo hooo! It’s a holiday camp and you’re treated like Jesus of the Nazareth fame! Your washing is done and you mother’s cooking is making your attempt of dinners for one look like a fucking pot noodle.


Your old room that was converted into the guest bedroom (with the StairMaster 4000 in the corner doubling up as wardrobe), has clean sheets and fancy satin cushions! Bitches love fancy satin cushions! It’s the best night sleep you’ve had in ages.


Your family actually want to spend time with you and they throw out a few heart warming “Oh how I’ve missed you!” and “it’s so lovely to have you home again!”


You go roaming around your old town where a strong hum of giddy nostalgia clings to your breast! Nothing has changed and you love regaling all the familiar faces you meet with tales of the big city and how your move home is only temporary.


You organize a reunion soiree with all your old mates where you drink like 15 year olds and ironically pat each other on the back for coming so far in life and maturing into the fine people you are today.


You’re fucking bored. It’s only been 2 weeks as it dawns on you that you’re not actually on holiday and this is now your reality. Your room is too small for all your stuff and the fancy satin cushions look shit!


You need space but every time you retire to your bedroom for some peace, your mum keeps popping in for chats asking about your day with offerings of custard cream biscuits.


You hate everything there is to hate about your hometown. Totally rational things like it’s “too blowy” outside… and when you’re pissed off you start all sentences with “well this would never happen in *INSERT BIG CITY HERE*”


You miss being able to be an independent adult so subconsciously rebel by acting like a dickhead 14 year old. Fights break out with your parents because you’re hungry and they bought the wrong brand of potato waffles at Tesco... ya know... the shitty ones that have a Russian sounding name and were on sale.


You forget all the reasons why moving home was such an amazing idea and crave to get back your life… the life you clearly couldn’t afford. You snub your mum’s cooking for a dirty burger because you now eat your feelings. You will sort your life out tomorrow...

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