In a strange role reversal, people in their 20s and 30s are demanding to know where their parents are going and who they’re spending time with
“Mum is going to a reunion today,” my sister texted me. “And I’m annoyed.”
It was early Saturday morning. In between digesting the latest horror stories from Lombardy and planning my own thrilling weekend of socially-distanced activities, my sister and I were engaging in our new hobby: worrying about our parents. It’s a pastime many people our age have taken up lately.
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