There something so funny about seeing kids and their belonging parents walking around Boulder together. I don't know if it's the separation of the two that makes it so interesting to behold this phenomenon of improved mannerisms, language, and behavior, but it's entertaining nonetheless.

I suppose when you grow up within a relatively close knit community, such as high school or a smaller town or suburb, meeting a friend's parents seems kind of natural, seeing as how it's inevitable that you're going to be depending on the Robinsons occasionally for rides and financial funding for entertainment. I once came across some quotation relating a circle of friends to a self-created family. I feel that, if it's safe to say that one's friends often dictate the types of thoughts, actions, clothing, and music one partakes in to a certain extent, family itself is a monumental influence. Even if it's an aversion to a type of food, music, or concept because of some strange, negative emotional connotation, the environments our parents do and do not introduce us to and raise us within significantly affect our personas.

My roommate's family came in from out of town to spend the weekend in Boulder, enjoying the beautiful Colorado weather while spending time with their departed daughter. Running into the family unit last night while out to dinner, I found it interesting that all four of them were standing the same way, hands in their coat pockets with their knees slightly bent, and the overwhelming similarities of my roomie's facial expressions to her mother's. Accordingly, they had all indulged themselves in their favorite types of food, collectively agreeing to a specific atmosphere and restaurant that perfectly suited all of their wants.

This is why home must be so comforting, it's not necessarily that food and laundry are "free" commodities that can be taken for granted any lazy Sunday afternoon; rather, it's the mannerisms and habits we set ourselves within while in childhood and adolescence. For example, a girl on my hall cannot focus on her homework without watching TV and snacking because her home has always had an atmosphere of a loud working environment. I myself like to lay around for an hour or two on the weekend mornings, reading and drinking coffee, precisely because it's what my mom did for years and has grown to be something that I've simply adopted into my own preferences. What else could be more comforting than living in a space where everything is relatively expected and ably predicted because it's how the family functions? This could be argued as one of the most difficult aspects of divorce for children to witness: seeing one's controlled home environment shift dramatically. It's an understated rough transition to go from watching the news every night before bed with one's parents to seeing Mom or Dad start making time for their own individual and independent rituals that may have not been present while the family itself was still intact.

When else is it entirely possible to be surrounded by food, objects, and schedules that have gradually been assimilated into our opinions and daily functioning lives? In this sense, there really is no place like home.