Papa? Mama? WHERE ARE YOU?

There is a never ending dilemma between my parents and I. And that is finding out where they are and them trying to figure out where I’ve run off to. – Miko (in conversation with creative writing club leader)

As a teenager, I have many needs – most unnecessary and few actually relevant. Because of these needs, there is a constant battle to figuring out where my parents are located and most importantly – can I reach them through cellular communication?

I will not lie. My parents are essentially my bank (though, I’d still love them even if they didn’t have big wallets) and because of this whenever I need something I have to go and ask them for it. Don’t get me wrong – I do have MY own money and now hitting the bit one-eight I tend to scurry into my own wallet before I go digging in theirs, but sometimes the pain of seeing my greenbacks leave my grubby paws hurts too much and I end up in front of them, palms outstretched. Is it shameful? A bit, but I take comfort in the thought that at least I don’t ask for anything TOO ridiculously expensive or something just plain stupid, like, for example, a mustang. A MUSTANG! How ridiculous and dumb is that? Actually….he got it! So who’s the fool? The kid for asking a mustang as his second vehicle (after wrecking the FIRST one) ? Or the parents for actually going and buying that vehicle? Why not ask for a new suit…so he can go on that job interview next week? Hmmmm?

Okay, so I got sidetracked….

Anyways, since I occasionally ask my parents for money (and sometimes rides since there’s no need for me to get a car yet when there’s a perfectly working free bus), I need to know where they are. And how do I find out where my parents are located? By calling them of course! So I call them.

And they rarely ever answer. Sigh.

I’m sure I’m not the only one with this problem.

When my parents call me – I answer. Most of the time. My parents aren’t generally too fond of me not answering because they hate playing the “Guess Where My Child’s At?” game. Also, my mother has this deep rooted suspicion that my brother or I are in some baby-killing gang and that when we don’t answer it’s because we are either killing babies, doing drugs, or both. So when I feel my phone vibrating, I check it it. And if it’s my madre. I answer.


When I call her, I’m met with a cold voicemail. “Leave a message at the tone.”

To answer or not to answer?

To answer or not to answer?

Is she in some baby-killing gang, shooting up some drugs?


Posted on January 16, 2014, in Miko's Corner, My Blog and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: