If you ask anyone who is close to me, they can tell you that I absolutely hate eating eggs. Whether they're scrambled, sunny side up, or hard boiled, I do not like the consistency or sometimes taste of eggs. They'll also tell you that while I don't like eating eggs, there are a few exceptions. I will only eat eggs as an omelet, mixed with cut up pieces of tortillas, or in a breakfast burrito. Some mornings if we have the right ingredients, I'll make myself a breakfast burrito, but most of the time when this happens, my mom is usually home. It'll be a Saturday morning, after my dad has gone to work, I'll ask my mom if she can make me a breakfast burrito or I'll get up and make us both one. I'll get as far as scrambling the eggs, layering some cheese, maybe some beans if we have leftovers, and sometimes cut up pieces of a sausage patty, and putting this all on a tortilla, but that's where I stop. I usually end up calling my mom into the kitchen and asking her to roll the burrito up for me because I can never do it just right. No matter how many times my mom has shown me how to do it, I can never roll my breakfast burrito close just perfectly like my mom does. Even for the simplest things, at the ripe old age of 20, I always depend on my mom to help me or show me how to do something.
Between the ages of eleven and twenty-something, they say children often rebel against their parents and it isn't until they reach maturity that they begin to build a closer relationship with them. For me, this happened when I turned eighteen and I went away from home for college. I have always been close with my parents, my mom especially. I did have my rebellious stage going through high school, but after I graduated and moved away, I realized how much I still need my parents. I was extremely dependent on my mom while at school and once in a while when I remembered or just wanted to, I would call her up and tell her all about my day or what big events were coming up for me in the semester. I knew it was hard on her having me away but she supported me in whatever I wanted to do. She, of course, gave me some tough love when I needed it, especially when I wanted to just give up on school and come home. Whenever I called her crying that I was homesick and just wanted to come home, she told me I needed to suck it up and finish the semester. I stayed and finished my semester, I was even crazy enough to come back. Besides, like the old saying goes, momma didn't raise no quitter.
Whenever something went wrong with my classes, or I had a laundry mishap, or I was feeling sick, I'd call my mom and ask her for help. She would tell me what could she do from three thousand miles away. Despite my constant calling for a minor cold, she'd tell me what to do and would sometimes send a care package, if the occasion called for it. She always says how little patience she has, but every time I called her for every little thing that went wrong, she held her patience and would talk me through it. When I came home for the first time since leaving for college, we both hugged each other so tight and cried right in the middle of the airport. I didn't care, I was home with my family, and I could finally depend on my mom to help me with anything when I need to rather than calling her and asking her to walk me through whatever it was. The first two or three weeks of being home, I spent as much time as I could with my mom and would ask her to do the simplest things like making me a grilled cheese for me.
Being home and taking many trips back and forth from school, I've come to realize that I never outgrew needing my mom. Even at this age I still call her mommy, no matter where we are because she still is my mommy and I know I will never stop needing her. Entering into my third year of college, I am still going to call her and ask her how to fix my laundry that I accidentally turned pink or how to get that grease stain out of my shirt or whether I should take another philosophy class or take an art class instead. When I am home, I'm still going to ask her to make me a breakfast burrito or hug her and let her kiss my cheek and try and fix my unruly hair in public just because I know she needs to and because I enjoy letting my mom baby me a little.
