Parents are an incredible gift to a child. After all, no one cares about children more than their own parents do. Even our first understanding of love is conditioned by our parents. We are brought up to respect and obey them even when they annoy us to no end. This is exactly why I propose to banish all parents.

There are not enough words to convey how much my mother makes my life absolutely miserable. To begin, every Saturday she goes out to buy endless amounts of groceries for the family. Besides the fact that she is gone for almost two hours and ignores any needs I might have, my mother always comes back with too many organic items. I am constantly interrupted with questions from her about my thoughts and feelings. It is like she has no regard for my boundaries and the limited time I have to talk to her. Not only that, I despise the way she irons my clothes. Everybody knows you have to use the steam button for cotton. This will be difficult to believe, but she decided to get me six less gifts for Christmas than my brother. How could someone be so selfish? In addition, sometimes, when I let her, my mother hugs me way too hard. I feel like I am suffocating in her sweetly scented aroma. Also, her compulsion to hang framed photos of the family in every room makes me question her sanity. God, help this woman.

As for my father, his habits are just as bad. We have to put up with him spending too much time making money to provide for our family. His monthly business trips interfere with his ability to drive me to my friend’s house. Not to mention, he does not even bring me back any good souvenirs. My father never hesitates to encourage me to accomplish my goals. I resent this because it often gets in the way of my screen time. Every other Sunday, I am appalled by the amount of fluffy, golden pancakes he makes for the family. I struggle to share this memory, but my father only let me bring two friends on our vacation to the Bahamas last summer. His consistent good moods and incessant humming of the theme song from Full House always gets in the way of my teenage angst. This in combination with my meager twenty dollar a week allowance truly infuriates me.

Now, I am sure you have some understanding of my suggested proposal. No more contrived holiday cards with fake smiles. No more forced thank you notes to Grandma and Grandpa for my birthday gifts. No more boring family dinners after which I have to clean up the hours of work my mother put in to making it. No more of that bland tasting almond milk, I can finally buy two per cent.  I will never again have to willingly show them my report card and face the inevitable consequences. Let us face it; by the age of eight, most children can function completely on their own. We can use a microwave, call 911, and if necessary, drive a car. I am sure the question of where these parents will go has crossed your mind. It does not need to be complicated, for a simple nearby island would do the trick.