The Boomerang and the Family Vacation

As a boomerang I am faced with the daily challenge of being an adult and being treated like a child, it doesn't help that the walls of my bedroom are painted with clouds and my single bed is covered with Care Bears. Between both my jobs and their particular dramas, my household chores, my mother lecturing me as if I were fifteen and a week at the beach with my family  I am ready for a vacation.

I'm not complaining about the family vacation, we had a ton of fun, took a stand-up paddle boarding lesson, sat on the beach, ate out at some delicious places, there is nothing to complain about. The problem is coming home. As an adult I should be able to spend a week with my family and then go back to my life and enjoy they time we had together.

Instead, the drive back is a smattering of abuses and agitation. The unpacking is more discontent and then dinner is a fight. This is normal, this was one of my mother's biggest complaints against my father, even long before they divorced. It has to do with roles and expectations. And in some ways it has to do with my mother.

I love my mother but she had indeed forgotten that I am an adult. Friday when we left the beach, forced off by the blazing heat, she started in on setting a tight schedule for packing. She was upset that my vacation bed wasn't made and she spent some time admiring her handy work from the beginning of the week when she rearranged most of the furniture.

She is an A personality. Unfortunately, I am the person in the family who missed that gene. I let it go, I let it go, I let it go, but after vacation I need the space to not make my bed and not fold my clothes and leave my shoes in the middle of the floor to be tripped over, not because that's how I like it but because that's how I function.  I need to function a bit outside of the family.

How do Italian men live with their parents so long?