If, at the age of 22, all I had to pay up was £150 a month to have my parents house me, feed me and (most recently) provide me with medical health insurance in a hurry, I’d be happy.
If I was her… I wouldn’t bitch and moan that they’re demanding this money off me, especially since the only reason I’m short of money is that I took off for the weekend to go to a concert. I wouldn’t bitch and moan about the fact that my mother only does home cooking at the weekend since her job and Dad’s job pay for the house, the food consumed within and the electicity used up heating the bath in the long periods spent luxuriating in the bath. I wouldn’t bitch that Dad gets to watch what he wants on the TV since I don’t pay for either the TV or the license.
It would also be a pleasure if her co-workers (one of whom lost her Dad and unborn child recently, one of whom is having to move across the water to England away from her friends all over again and one of whom may be splitting up with his girlfriend who has his 4 month old baby) didn’t have to listen to all this crap during working hours.
I’m with you. At 22, I was just starting to recover from being kicked out of the house at 20, and my parents taking all my money (they had access to my bank account, and emptied it) and leaving me to sink or swim on my own.
Oh God do I understand. I worked with a receptionist recently that constantly reminded us that she didn’t have * to work because her husband had a good job and she just worked with us for shopping money. All of this around several women that were freshly divorced (me among them so maybe I’m a bit sensitive), fighting for a smidge of child support from exes unwilling to pay, and (as god as my witness) eating Ramen to survive.
Not as bad as bitching about how bad you have it around someone that just lost two family members that close, but I do understand.
*I just realized how many people I work with that are in the same boat. I think working for my company makes spouses go crazy and leave!
It’s funny, but I never would have suspected that a sentence existed, containing the word “ramen,” which is impossible to read without hearing it in a Scarlett O’Hara voice.
And they she comes out with that, and you even see her in silhouette.
Pushkin, is there any way you can communicate to your coworker what a prat she’s being, without poisoning the atmosphere any more?
Maybe smilingly point out that her situation is actually rather enviable, and that in a few years she’ll probably look back fondly on the whole thing, because real life will by then have worn her down like a poodle dragged for kilometers behind a truck over a graded road?
No no, you make the dress out of the curtains AFTER you make the vow. You’re supposed to be wearing the same dress you’ve worn for weeks, and then you go and shoot some Yankee.
Please don’t shoot self before explaining why your parents would empty your bank account? If that’s not too personal a question. I mean, I can see kicking the little shavers out – time to test your wings, kids! – but not taking all their money, thus leaving them both homeless and broke.
Short version - they didn’t approve of what I was doing (dating outside my culture) and used it as a manipulative tactic to get me to do what they want (get married inside my culture, and within the next month at that).
:blank look: No, never. I don’t think I ever thought of it. I wouldn’t have dreamed of it. I still wouldn’t dream of it. I guess they still have a lot of control over me, much as I’ve tried to fight it.
If you want the long version, feel free to e-mail me at elenia25 @ gmail.com.
Ooo, yes, I’d love it! I can be impassioned and overly dramatic! Let’s see, what would that be in Hindi?
Er…I can’t translate Ramen.
Bhagwan ki kasam khaake kehethi hoon, main kabhi! phir! Ramen! nahin! kaongi!
Note to the non-UK dopers … if the cow-worker was spelled that way intentionally, then the “cow” is more or less equivalent to the US vernacular “bitch”.
Ah, kids - can’t work with them, can’t shoot them, hide their body in the copy room, quit and take off to the Cayman Islands with 500 large of the company’s money.
And as an aside, I have known more than one kid who had their money out and out stolen by a parent–and I mean money earned at a job, not just money that Grandma intended for Timmy’s college fund.
