Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday.
Shouting at my parents about how unfair it was that they insist I be home for tea, home again to go to bed, brush my teeth, turn my lights out and go to sleep, get up for school, do my homework and blah blah blah.
Their list of stupid pointless rules was bloody endless – it became perfectly obvious to me around the age of fourteen that no intelligent person should be forced to endure this draconian regime, and I let the intellectual homunculi know so in no uncertain terms.
And the lofty and pompous arrogance with which these dreary praetorians informed me, ME!, that “while I lived under their roof, I would have to live by their rules“!
I seemingly had no rights at all. I was not free.
The horror.
I resolved then and there to move out as soon as I could.
Which turned out to be about five years later, but still …
My word, how I despised them and their byzantine rules. I yearned to breathe free air and not remain beleaguered in their stale and oppressive Gulag of The Mind. I was an adult dammit, and not some little kid, to be told what I can and cannot do.
Ahem.
Funnily enough, when I returned home many years later, I was amazed to discover how much more reasonable they had become in my absence – I felt like they had really grown … spiritually (h/t Samuel Clemens)
Alex Noble, “Progressive Millennials. While We Live Under Their Roof, We Should Abide By Their Rules.”, Continental Telegraph, 2020-09-01.
December 2, 2020
QotD: Old Sam Clemens, he understood
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