We ALL fucking know what that means, don't we? I picked up the call, the tiniest bit of anxiety bubbling up my throat. "We need to speak. Come to our room for a minute." Between the time it took me to finish my business, give myself a confident nod in the mirror, and go back to my parent's room, I was ready with my material:

Mom. Dad. I'm a grown-up now. No, the door of my room will not be kept open. Firstly, it's hot and we need the air conditioner. Secondly, and more importantly—I'm 25. We're only going to watch a movie. Nothing is going to happen. Okay, maybe just some kissing. It's just kissing! Did I establish that I'm 25?

I snap back to reality and approach the battlefield. Mom and dad are no longer sitting in the same room. Point noted. Dad informs me that the next time I have news, I must deliver it separately to each of them, like a spy playing for both sides. They both have strong opinions - that feel unheard when in a room together.