Dealing with parents can be a struggle. When I reflect on my life, I realize that my parents worked very hard to get me to where I am, even when I didn’t like it.
That being said, parents are enigmas. If you have parents you have often wondered why they would ever act like that. A parent’s actions, even after years of reflection, can still make no sense. After having a set of my own parents I know that their motivation comes from three places deep within them.
The first motivating factor is that parents want the best possible lives for their children. This is why my mom would never let me use the vacuum attachments to give myself hickeys.
The less obvious one reason is that they want to embarrass us. This is why my dad would have let me use the vacuum to give myself hickeys. And when neither of these categories helped me understand why my parents are ‘acting like that,’ I know my parents are trying to explain one of the great mysteries of life: sometimes we do stuff just to do it.
My mother has always been comfortable with lying to her children, if it’s in their best interest. (Remember that ‘best life possible’ stuff)? When I was very young I wanted to touch the oven. What were those magical red bars on the top and bottom of the oven? How’d the light come on? I would try to reach for the oven and even though my hand would be slapped, my ear twisted and my hands burned, my curiosity wouldn’t disappear.
Much later, my family was watching TV, Rescue 911 I believe, and my father stopped for a moment on a little girl who was a burn victim and was missing her ears.
“Momma, what happened?” (I knew she would know, she was a nurse).
“She touched the oven,” my mother replied. For years I went nowhere near the oven. The microwave was the place for me. Even the toaster was a cruel reminder of what could happen.
My mother wasn’t the only deceptive one. I too, was more than willing to deceive. Brushing my teeth was just such a lie. My mother wanted me to brush my teeth every morning and I could think of nothing more pointless. I would go to great lengths not to brush my teeth. Whatever she started checking for I would think of a way to re-create. She would check if the bristles were wet, I would wet the toothbrush before leaving. She would check if it smelled like toothpaste, I would smudge a bit of toothpaste on the brush.
Most mornings I would spend 10 minutes creating the illusion of freshly brushed teeth. Most mornings… but occasionally I would forget. This is when my mother saw her opportunity. I had forgotten my morning ritual and she knew that there was no way that I had brushed my teeth. Dry toothbrush, no smearing of toothpaste, bad breath, it all added up.
After dropping me off, she drove back home and collected the things she would need. She grabbed my toothbrush, and my Ms. Piggy toothpaste. She drove back to my school and parked the van. She walked into the building and up the stairs directly into my homeroom.
“Joey,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I think you forgot to brush your little teefys this morning. I brought your toothbrush and your Piggy toothpaste. You want to brush your teeth like a big boy?” I wanted to die. Sylvia had won this one. My mother had proved that when it came to my categories of why parents act like they do, one act can easily fit into all three. She wanted me to live the best life that I could, one with clean teeth. She wanted to embarrass me, and she did. And she alluded to that great human mystery: Sometimes we do stuff just to do it.
So remember kids, your parents are (almost always) there for you, even when you use the vacuum cleaner to give yourself a hickey and especially when you’re in college.
Joe Albin is a graduate student in the Loyola Institute for Ministry program and a Resident Chaplain. He can be reached at [email protected] On the Record is a column open to any Loyola faculty or staff. Those interested in contributing can contact [email protected]
