I wish I could say I love having guests over. But alas, it is probably the second thing I hate most after doing dishes. It’s not that I don’t like people; it’s what happens before and during the visit that makes me want put myself up for adoption. I don’t understand what gets into our parent’s when they find out guests are coming over; it’s as if there is a trigger that waits to go off hours before they arrive. That trigger brings out something every child fears…parentzillas.
First thing that happens is my mother tells us to tidy up the house. But nothing is ever good enough for parentzillas. All of the sudden, books that have always been on bookshelves don’t belong there and vacuuming needs to be done, even though it only makes sense to vacuum after they leave. In my family, while we are all running around the house cleaning and adjusting things, my father notices the rug is off center, so we all have to move away from the center of the room, stand like sardines against the walls, making sure we aren’t stepping on the rug, and wait for him to pull and center it. Then he goes on about how we never notice that the carpet is off center. Of course, parentzillas don’t just stop at off center rugs, it reaches the kitchen when your mother realizes that the Tang isn’t mixed and the chips and dip aren’t poured yet. And God forbid anyone forgets to refill the ice trays, because then it would legitimately be WWIII. But Alhamdulillah, we manage to get everything ready and turn our frowns upside down the second the doorbell rings, and we all line up to greet the royal family that was the root cause of everyone’s anger five minutes ago.
Parentzillas do not become tame when guests are over, no. Instead, you have to make sure your eyes are on them at all times so you don’t miss “the signal” that tells you what your next move is. If you miss the signal and one of your parents has to get up, get ready for the glare that will burn a hole in your face.
You also have to always make sure you are sitting in the most poised manner or your parents will be labeled the worst parents in history by their guests, even though the guest’s children are eating with all ten fingers. I don’t understand why I can’t sit pretzel style on a sofa or chair. Are the guests not humans? Do they not sit that way in the comfort of their own home? In fact, I think that everyone should be able to sit the way they want. Parentzillas act like guests are not normal people who slouch in their chairs, eat with their hands, and even throw away their own napkins. Dear God, why do I have to always throw away their napkins? There can only be one place where the trash bin is.
I am confident that many people who live with their parents can relate to this first world problem. I mean, parentzillas need to calm down a bit and not worry so much how they will appear in front of guests; who I might add have known them all their lives. In my opinion, if the food is good, you have the guest’s approval in the bag. No one will even notice the off-center rug, I guarantee it.