the 'rents

My parents were in town for 2.5 hours this afternoon. They spend every President's Day weekend at Cannon Beach with friends. They swung through PDX on their trip back north. It was nice to see them, to have them as a sounding board for my next life plan. My mom says "that is a good idea" & states why when she thinks I'm making good choices. It helps me articulate my decisions better. It's mostly comforting that she knows me so well. [She knew which college I would end up at while I was still agonizing over the decision. Her understanding of me hasn't decreased with time & distance.] Over a 3 o'clock meal (linner?, dunch?), I was talking about how the past few years have taught me that social services is not the career path for me. My mom didn't sound a bit disappointed when she encouraged me to pursue something analytical even though she & my dad have been social workers since they were my age. And my parents brought me pajamas. And a Daily Show tape. They are good people. I like living this close to them.

Their visits to Portland have become so ritualized. We always eat a Hoda's. We always go to Fabric Depot. We always stop by Movie Madness. I don't mind. They are places that I like to go to, that I am happy to share with them, that I would go to without them. It's just a bit strange. I've been here long enough & they've visted me enough that we have "when my parents are visiting, we always. . . " things. It's good to be stable like that, I think.