My parents have been retired four years now, since the moment I graduated high school and their nest was finally empty, of both myself and my brother - at least periodically, with both of us away at school, supposedly becoming grownups. With the house de-childrenized and their new found release from the workforce, my parents hardly wasted any time before planning trips across the globe, to the United Kingdom, Portugal, Egypt and - rather to my surprise - Las Vegas. So this summer, in their usual retirement glory, my parents went away for the month of July to gallivant around Turkey and Greece. And so I found myself an independent once again, adult responsibility dropping on me out of the sky like Dorothy's house from Kansas.
Not to say that I was crushed by this turn of events (I should really cut this metaphor short) - on the contrary, I looked forward to feeling independent again. And also to being able to have the entire kitchen to myself. And to be able to leave my laptop and my (somewhat unwieldy) speakers out on the dining room table without fear of their being moved or tinkered with, and of course having the freedom to blast music from said speakers with abandon. I had free reign of the household - and it was awesome.