I visit my folks a lot. We’re close and they live just far enough away that a round trip visit is a bit much for one day (especially with a 3 year old). So, I keep a little box under the bed that holds common toiletries so I don’t have to bring as many things back and forth.
On one hand, it’s perfectly logical, an example of my chronic pragmatism. On the other hand, it is a little weird. I occasionally wonder, if it is more than just a box. While I’d never want to live with my parents by choice, there is some real relief in knowing there is a place I can go and in a pinch, my needs will be met.
Sometimes I think if everything falls apart and I need somewhere to go, I have this safety net just waiting for me behind the closed doors of my parents house. I am embarrassed to the effect in which this provides me comfort.