I woke up to the sound of my stupid alarm the next morning, loud enough to yank me straight out of bed. The craziest and most annoying part?
It was a weekend.
Why did I even set it?
I put off the alarm and lay there for a second, staring at the ceiling. I didn't feel like going for a jog today—nope, not happening, not at all.
Groaning, I rolled out of bed, dragging myself downstairs. I went to check on Mum and Dad, and to my surprise, they were in the kitchen being… them.
Cooking breakfast together, smiling like some couple from an old-school romance movie. Sometimes I wondered if their love story ran on rechargeable batteries, because how were they always so mushy and lovey-dovey this early on any day they weren't on duty?
"Good morning, Mom, Dad," I said, rubbing my eyes.
"Good morning, babe. You're awake. How was your night?" Mom asked, giving me one of her soft, overly sweet smiles.
"It was good," I replied. "What are we having for breakfast this morning?" I asked, still yawning on my feet—if that's even a sentence.
"It's a surprise, and I wouldn't want to ruin it. You wouldn't like that, would you?" Mom asked rhetorically, smiling sweetly at me.
I had no chance to reply or say anything before Dad talked.
"Looks like someone had a good night's rest," Dad cackled, already teasing before the conversation even started.
"Yes, Dad," I replied, smiling a little at my pops because… well… his laughter was honestly contagious.
"So, any plans for today? Not going for your morning jog?" Mom asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, Mum, not at all. Just assignments, music, novels, and chatting," I replied, listing my normal weekend routine.
Dad suddenly sighed dramatically and set down the spatula. I should've known something was loading.
"You know," he began, "staying inside all the time—even at your age, when you're supposed to act like a teenager, get into trouble, throw tantrums, have boyfriends, break multiple guys' hearts, ruin the school walls, and do all those silly things teenagers do—is actually worrisome. You're like an adult living in a child's body."
I stared at him.
Here we go again.
Dad went on and on, his speech getting longer by the second. He started telling stories about his teenage lifestyle—him being the 'hot cake' of the entire school (his words, definitely not mine). Mom jumped in every now and then, adding her own comments about how she was the hottest girl in her school.
Every parent says that.
Like… every single one.
And I always wonder—if all of them were the hottest, then who exactly were the regular people? Or the unpopular ones? Did they just… not grow up to become parents?
They kept talking and talking, so deep into their own memories that I basically stiffened at that point. And honestly? Listening to them was torture. Not emotional torture—just pure, unnecessary suffering.
They talked about their first French kiss (eeewww… gross).
Their first hug.
Their first date.
Their first dance.
And then—ohhhhh… the horror—they actually started dancing the exact dance in the kitchen, smiling at each other and swaying like they were auditioning for "Parents Got Talent"—the parents' version of America's Got Talent.
I could feel my soul slipping out of my body slowly, like lemon juice.
Why did I have to listen to this?
Why me?
Why couldn't they spare me?
They were so caught up in their own world, replaying their entire teenage romance, that I managed to sneak out of the kitchen without them noticing. I stealthily slipped away.
And honestly?
I needed that escape. Any more minutes spent in that room would've taken away my sanity. Dramatic, right? Live in my house with these two people and you'll know what I'm talking about.
Yes, I'm talking to you. Yes, you.
I went back to my room quietly and lay on my bed. That was when a notification popped up. It was from Adrian. It said:
Adrian: good morning sunshine
Me: sunshine??
I typed that while literally blushing so hard.
Adrian: yeah, how was ur night?
Me: Twas good
Adrian: that's nice, do u have any plans for today?
I blushed even harder and wondered why he was asking me that, but I quickly replied before I overthought it.
Me: no, not at all. Why'd u ask? Do u have anything in mind?
The moment I sent that, I regretted it because it looked like I cared way too much.
Adrian: no, I have nothing in mind. I was thinking of coming over to your place so we can start discussing and working on our biology project.
Me: what—ohhh, no problem. It's okay. U can come over.
I was honestly overwhelmed when I typed that. Adrian was coming over to my house.
Adrian: okay Monroe, I'll be there in the next 1 hour. See u then 😊
Me: okay
The moment I sent that, I ran to my friends' group chat and told them everything. And as usual, the stupid bitches teased me about it.
I went downstairs to tell my parents we were having a visitor, and I found them still dancing their hearts out. I guess they weren't going to the hospital today.
I didn't want to disturb them because that moment was really sweet and special. It had been long since they had time like this, and I didn't want to be a terrible spoiler.
Just as I was about to leave, they started talking… and the moment immediately got worse.
Mom: darling, it's been long since we had time to ourselves. Thanks to Dr. Rowe for taking the shift today.
Dad: yes, baby, I know. What do you say we book a hotel and go on a date? Then after the date, we can… you know… spend quality time like we used to.
Dad said this and winked at Mom.
Mom: hmmm, what do you mean by spend quality time?
Dad: dear, you know what I mean.
Dad said this, and they both smiled profusely at each other.
Did my ears just hear that? Ew. Gross.
OPS is being activated—and by the way, OPS is a short term for Old People's Syndrome. I made it up.
If only they knew I was here witnessing this, I whispered to myself. They said all these things in coded words, but I'm not dumb—I still understood what they meant.
My parents are like forty or something.
They were about to leave the kitchen when I snapped out of my thoughts and ran up the stairs.
Luckily, they didn't see me.