Karen was like an impatient child. She remembered waiting, watching out the window for her dad to come home from work. Now, 20 years later, she was doing the same thing. This would be the first time her parents were in Utica (they had never even made it to Scranton).

            It was 11:48 when she saw her dad’s old Accord pull up in front of her complex. She quickly looked in a mirror, and then glanced around her apartment. Everything had to be perfect. She had to show her parents she did the right thing moving to Utica.

            They were duly impressed with her apartment and its location. She showed them around town, where she worked, where she shopped, before a quick lunch at her new favorite bistro.

            They spent the afternoon catching up. Karen’s niece Rebecca was talking now, and no one could get a word in edgewise. Her parents’ dog, Clunkers, was getting old and arthritic. Her parents told stories about her neighbors, and old friends she went to high school with. Karen updated them on her job and the move.

            As they left that evening, Karen’s mom whispered in her ear – “I’m proud of you, sweetie.”