I know they say “you can’t pick your family,” but I like to think that if you could, I would still choose mine. My family is NOT perfect by any means, but growing up I never questioned the unconditional love that came from my parents.

I grew up in a small town in NC. It was mom, dad, my two older brothers, and me.

Now I am 21 and I only live at home when I am not away at college. My parents still live in the same little house that I grew up in, but without my brothers and I.

Today I was sitting in the kitchen hearing loads of laughter coming from the living room. I walk in to see my mom, dad, and two year old niece playing tag.

“Can’t catch me” followed by playful screams, laughter, and tiny running footsteps fill the room.

Usually, my niece will see me and scream “Farrah, save me!” and I will join in and play tag.

But today I didn’t join. I sat back and watched.

In that moment my parents were no longer in their 50s. They were 20 something again.

This, this is what they were like when I was growing up.

Of course I don’t remember anything from when I was 2 years old, but now I get to see it for myself what my parents were like.

They got in the floor and played with blocks with me. They taught me to sing “Old McDonald” and “the ABCs.”

Mom taught me how to swim and got in the pool with me every day. They taught me to say “please and thank you.”

Mom probably made me an apron just like hers so I could help her cook breakfast.

Dad would take me for a ride on the lawnmower and race with me outside.

My parents were actually focused on me and not glued to a cell phone. We spent quality time together.

They read me stories and played games with me.

Mom, I totally forgive you for making me have straight bangs for too long.

Dad, thanks for teaching me to hang with the guys.

I couldn’t appreciate it then, but now I realize that when I was 2, like my niece, my parents were my best friends, and they still are.