I was talking to my parents this morning about when I was a teenager and all I wanted to do was make my own decisions. Now, I would give anything for them to make all my decisions. Sure, I’d probably still be wearing bows in my hair if that was the case, but life would be a lot easier. Should I buy this dress I can’t afford? Should I eat 2 lunches? Should I get a puppy? Should I drink all these beers? I could really use a little help around here. If it was up to me, the answer to all those questions would be yes. Unfortunately, I have learned over the years that moms really do know best.

So. Annoying.

My whole life I have followed one rule when making decisions: if I don’t want to tell my parents about it than I probably shouldn’t be doing it. For example, if I don’t want my parents to see me in fishnet tights and and a low cut dress, then I probably shouldn’t wear it. If I don’t want my parents to know that I just ate an entire large pizza by myself, I probably shouldn’t do that either. Of course, I didn’t follow that rule as a teenager, but I don’t count those years. I prefer to go straight from 10 years old to 22 years old because anything in between those years are too chubby and too stupid to count. However, this rule doesn’t apply for anyone with a little confidence and a brain. My boss, for instance, says people should think bigger than their parents are comfortable with. He is 29 and he is the CEO of his second successful company. Okay, so maybe my rule isn’t bullet proof, but it makes me nervous and sweaty to think the opposite.

When I told my parents that I wish they still made all my decisions, they both said the same thing at the same time.

“We do.”