Tuesday, May 21, 2013


I love my son. I want to preface this post with that thought. I do. Due to several circumstances in his life, both within and outside of his control, he does not have a job and hasn't been able to find work of any substance for nearly 8 years now. He does get some seasonal work here and there, but it doesn't amount to much more than a little bit of spending money, so he lives with us. I know a lot of people in similar situations nowadays, but what really irks me sometimes is when he complains about certain things like what I decide to make for dinner, or how I make it. Or when things aren't specifically to his liking, or when he gets upset when I or my husband spend our own money, which we work hard for, on something he doesn't think we need and he doesn't have things happen he wants to have done. Well, guess what? It's our money, we don't have to ask his permission or make sure he is comfy cozy and has all his desires met. He's darned lucky he isn't living under a bridge somewhere and that he has food to eat. Sorry about the rant, but when someone who is almost 30 years old is living in his parent's home, he should be just as nice and appreciative as he can be.