Attack of the "Dead Toe"- A Family and Work Dilemna

Last week I had to go to the podiatrist to get my horribly infected ingrown toenail, or as my sister’s friend calls it “The Dead Toe,” checked out.  I was embarrassed to go but as you can see from the image, it was clear that it needed medical attention; my toe was creating its own horror series.  In fact ingrown toenails are very common among young adults in comparison to other age groups, with males being most susceptible.

The podiatrist removed the toenail, and put me on antibiotics to get rid of the infection.  All was well, until I was informed that I was not to attend work the next day because of the interference with post-procedure healing.  Being stubborn, I planned on going to work but my plan was quickly halted when my parents entered the picture.

My parents, more so my mom, ordered me to listen to the podiatrist and stay home.  The only problem was that I would be missing a Friday night at work-which are always busy and thus my manager was in dire need of me. 

The predicament I was stuck in is evident, do I please my mom or my manager.  Troubles like these seem specific to young adults, due to the nature of needing to please.  I decided to stay home, because my mom’s wrath is too furious to deal with- you know the typical silent treatment deriving from disappointment that mothers sometimes put us kids through.  Sure you probably think that I should just defy her and do what I feel best becasue I am eighteen, but at the same time I live under her roof and she is only trying to look after me- besides I will admit that I rely on her for a lot and can't afford to risk our relationship.  I would have never thought that work and family- better yet work and my mom could or would ever put me in an awkward situation.  Work was fine with my absence and my mother was pleased that I listened to her.  Yes I am eighteen but I’m not afraid to say that mother knows best.  Go ahead and say it, “I’m a ‘momma’s boy,’” but I am fine with that. 

Times as such, make me feel as if my parents are suppressing my growth.  Not to say that I could make it on my own, or that “I’m grown,” simply that I need space because my legs are cramping.  My parents went as far to say that I have a lot of growing up to do.  Why, because I want to go to work?  I feel as if I don’t know exactly what my parents want out me.  I also feel as if I am being belittled whenever my mom takes control of my decisions concerning work.  I guess the best thing to do for now is to continue my pleasing methods, and cruise by at least until I can somewhat support myself.