After Douglas and I married in the fall of 1968, we spent many weekends at my parents’ house. The house was small and it wasn’t exactly in an idyllic community. The backyard also was tiny and not especially cheery. We didn’t do anything special with my parents, either. We’d have dinner and go to a movie and then laze around the house.
So why did a newly married couple of 21-year-olds want to spend weekends like this?
I scratch my head trying to come up with a suitable answer and the only one I can think of is that we were babies, not ready to be grown-up married people. We needed the “security” of being home with mommy and daddy, even though they never gave me much of a feeling of security before I married.
Many FOFs love when their grown children–married or not– come home for a day, a weekend, and, of course, for the holidays. But EVERY WEEKEND? A bit much, I say. I wish I could ask my mom and dad now how they felt about their constant house guests back in the day.