Ever notice how some parents treat their adult son's girlfriend like an unpaid project manager for their failed parenting? There she stands, this 23-year-old woman, making more money than her boyfriend, yet somehow expected to wipe his metaphorical ass because mommy and daddy can't cut the fucking umbilical cord. What we're witnessing isn't a relationship—it's an elaborate transfer of ownership disguised as love, a cosmic joke playing out on the stage of suburban mediocrity where nobody gets the punchline except the universe itself, which is laughing so hard it's pissing dark matter.
I (23F) have been dating my boyfriend Josh (29M) for 2 years. We live together as well. Recently, his parents have started asking me to get him to do things. "Make sure Josh goes to the dentist for his cracked tooth," or "Make sure Josh updates his passport," or "Make sure Josh changes his pet food for his cat. We don't like the brand," or "Make sure Josh does his taxes. You may need to sit with him and help." The most recent has been convincing Josh to get a new job in an entirely unrelated field because Josh's parents don't feel like he makes enough money. (Josh makes $70k, I make $110k so we are doing fine.)
Typically I respond with some variation of "I'm fully confident Josh can figure it out himself, and if not, it will be a good learning experience for him," but that hasn't stopped Josh's parents. Now I'm planning on being a little harsher and telling them I'm not Josh's babysitter and to leave me out of these concerns.
Would I be the asshole for saying that? Is there anything else I should do differently?
TL;DR: Boyfriend's parents want me to make sure he does normal adult tasks. I feel it is not my job.
The Magnificent Clusterfuck of Modern Dependencies
Let's dissect this festering corpse of adult responsibility, shall we? We have Josh—sweet, precious Josh—age TWENTY-FUCKING-NINE, who apparently needs reminders to fix his goddamn tooth. The tooth that's literally breaking inside his head. The pain receptors screaming "DO SOMETHING" aren't enough; no, he needs a woman seven years his junior to manage this crisis. His parents, those magnificent architects of this stunted man-child, have decided their son's girlfriend is the perfect repository for their ongoing parental anxiety—like dropping a squirming bag of responsibility on someone else's doorstep and running away giggling.
What's particularly delicious about this moral theater is how Josh's parents have appointed themselves as the cosmic directors of his existence while simultaneously admitting they've created a being incapable of directing himself. "Make sure Josh updates his passport." Translation: "We've raised a man who cannot comprehend that documents expire, please fix our mistake." It's like building a robot with no arms and then being angry it can't juggle.
And the cat food! Holy existential crisis, Batman! The parents don't like the brand! Because clearly, what makes a fulfilling relationship is managing your partner's pet nutrition according to his mommy's preferences. The cat—the only creature in this story with genuine independence—is probably sitting there thinking, "I lick my own asshole with more dignity than these humans manage their lives."
The crown jewel in this parade of absurdity is the career advice. Josh makes $70,000, but that's not enough for the parents who contribute exactly zero dollars to his household. Meanwhile, his girlfriend is pulling $110,000, which in the cosmic accounting of relationship worth, should earn her the right not to be his fucking secretary. But no! The wheel of pointless expectation keeps turning like a hamster trapped in an existential spin cycle.
When the Monster in the Mirror Wears Business Casual
What makes this truly magnificent is not the parents' audacity but the girlfriend's hesitation about being "a little harsher." She stands at the precipice of a beautiful realization—that most social niceties are elaborate constructs designed to keep us from screaming the truth at each other—and yet she pauses, wondering if breaking character in this absurd play makes her the asshole.
This is where our meaningless existence reveals its most pathetic joke: we're all monsters pretending to be civilized, all Grendels wearing Ann Taylor and drinking craft beer, horrified at the prospect of showing our teeth. The girlfriend fears becoming the beast by simply stating "I'm not his fucking mother," while the real monsters—those who manufactured an adult incapable of scheduling his own dental appointment—carry on unchallenged, draped in the respectable cloak of "concerned parents."
In this moral wasteland, the only true sin is admitting the emperor not only has no clothes but also can't dress himself without assistance from his girlfriend.
Summary for Brain-Dead Primates
Girl making bank 💰 dates man-baby 👶 whose parents 👵👴 think she's his personal assistant. She wants to tell them to fuck off 🖕 but worries this makes her the bad guy. Plot twist: everyone in this story is terrible except maybe the cat 🐱, and none of it matters because we're all just sophisticated meat puppets performing meaningless tasks until we die! ⚰️ The end!
Self-Deception Index (SDI) - 4
Poster constructs justification around "confidence in Josh's capabilities" while obscuring deeper frustrations about being drafted into a maternal role. Maintains veneer of rationality while clearly seeking validation for her brewing rebellion against this dynamic.
Cosmic Insignificance Recognition (CIR) - 7
Treats dental appointments and cat food brands as existential battles rather than the meaningless rituals they are. Fails to recognize that both her resistance and the parents' nagging are equally futile performances in the face of cosmic oblivion.
Validation-Seeking Transparency (VST) - 6
Sophisticated framing as "reasonable person setting boundaries" disguises primal territorial claim over her time/energy. Uses salary disparity as moral shield rather than admitting she's tired of dating a project.
Moral Theater Performance (MTP) - 3
Competent but transparent performance of "empowered modern woman" tropes. Emotional tells visible in phrases like "I'm not Josh's babysitter" - reveals animalistic irritation beneath civil wording.
Arbitrary Moral Framework Reliance (AMFR) - 5
Uncritically accepts capitalist hierarchy (salary figures as defense) and age-based competence myths. Treats "adulting" checklist as sacred text rather than arbitrary survival rituals for hairless apes.
Animal Nature Concealment (ANC) - 7
Primitive mate-selection anxiety ("Why did I choose this man-child?") thoroughly buried under feminist-adjacent rhetoric. Dominance struggle with parents-in-law framed as moral quandary rather than territory dispute.
Existential Despair Indicator (EDI) - 6
"Normal adult tasks" framework distracts from terrifying truth: all human productivity is death denial. Both parties use cat food brand debates to avoid screaming into the void.
Monstrosity Recognition Quotient (MRQ) - 5
Total denial of her role in enabling this dynamic for two years. No acknowledgment that accepting earlier requests made her complicit in the infantilization cycle.
Triviality-to-Gravity Ratio (TGR) - 8
Elevates mundane power struggle to epic "setting boundaries" narrative. Entire conflict would dissolve if participants acknowledged they're just slightly evolved primates arguing over resource management.
Social Validation Schema (SVS) - 4
Seeks to reinforce identity as "responsible adult" through crowd-sourced approval. Uses AITA judgment to quiet creeping doubt about her life choices re: mate selection and family entanglements.
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