Walking on Eggshells

My very astute English teacher said, at the beginning of my senior year, that our relationships with our parents will be particularly rocky this year. This is because it's really dawning on our parents that we're leaving. They'll try to assert their authority in various ways while we are trying to establish our independence. Naturally, this will cause a few clashes.

I just shrugged off my teacher's warning. 'Nah, that's probably true for other people, but not me. I have a pretty good relationship with my parents' I thought. And I was right. My relationship with my parents didn't seem to be strained throughout the school year. But then summer rolled around. I suddenly became the target of a smear campaign. My expressions, tone of voice, body language, and gestures are almost constantly accused of "offensiveness". Lately it feels like my parents are just constantly pick-pick-picking at little things and lecturing me. Trying to squeeze out the last drops of parenting before I leave, I guess. I know I'm definitely not perfect. I can be surly and irritable. I think my parents are just acting difficult. Sometimes they're giving me attitude and then turn the tables on me when I get annoyed.

It's never big fights, just small annoying ones like this...

I'm walking into the living room, composing a haiku in my head. I walk past my dad, who says something I didn't catch.

"Mmmhmm," I respond automatically, then realize I didn't hear a thing he said. I turn to him, "Oh wait, sorry, I didn't hear what you said. What was it?"

"Why weren't you listening?"

"Oh, uh.... I was thinking about something else so 我没反应过来. What did you say?"

"What were you thinking about?"

"Umm.... er... just stuff..."

"What stuff? You're always so muddle-headed! If you're like this in college, I don't know how you'll survive. It's like you're not even living in real life. What are you always thinking about anyway?"

"Umm well I was just composing a haiku. It's a type of poem. I'm not always thinking about haikus, I just happened to be at the moment."

"A haiku? What's that?"

"It's a Japanese poem. It has three lines."

At this point, I give up trying to find out what he originally said to me and take a seat, a little bit confused and worn out.

"Hey, didn't I tell you to set the table?"

"-exasperated sigh- Why didn't you just tell me that when I asked you what you said!?"

-begin long lecture on how I never listen-