midnight breakfast, hair cuts, afternoon chats, and sawdust.

So I'm in class now at this very moment: Psychology of Family. The parents who read this won't be too happy about that, but...eh... I'm actually writing about them, so they might be OK with it. I had a thought I wanted to share.

Right now we're talking about the role of children. We've had discussions of mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, and now we're on to children. A discussion point was: in general society children are friends with their parents.

It's this point that has struck me. Parents being friends with their kids.

It's gross.

I was never friends with my parents. They definitely were friendly. But we weren't friends.

Friendship implies a level playing field; no hierarchy, less responsibility, no structure... and my parents weren't that. I'd get home late at night and have great talks with my dad over a late night breakfast. Afternoon calls to my mom lasted quite a long time. Hair cuts with Doe was a great time to connect. Saturdays out in the garage with John usually ended in a lesson learned. They are great parents. They were easy to approach and fun to be with, (albeit unconventional). They were interested in my life and involved with things that were happening with me. They all cared. All of them. But they weren't my friend. They demanded respect in love and obedience to their rules. They taught me how to be a functional, responsible, and intelligent young man. And I am thankful.

So this is a short post. I just had a moment of reflection: I have some rockin' parents.

So, thanks Dad.

And thanks Doe.

And thanks Mom.

And thanks John.

Ha. That always makes me laugh.