People Who Hate To Go Home

When we were little kids. playing outside and having fun, we dreaded hearing our parents call our names, meaning that we had to come home.

We looked forward to waking up on a weekend, eating breakfast then running outside to play.  We would have to be called for lunch. We hated to go home. We were having fun.

When we were teenagers under curfews, we’d dread having to leave the party to go home. Many times we would just hang out, knowing that soon enough we’d have to go home.

We were young, the house was ‘our parents’ house.   There were rules and limits and life, for us, was outside, not inside.

Our friends were outside, our interests were outside, Outside was where it was all happening.

When we grew up and were on our own, home was… our home. We’d race home after work to be home. When we got married we wanted to be home.

Home was our base.

Sure, you leave home to go to work, to go shopping to go somewhere, but home isn’t last choice.

I find it really uncomfortable to meet a man or a woman, a married man or woman, who hates to go home.

Steve is one of those people. He’s the first to arrive, the last to leave.   He hates to go home. In fact, one day he even said it to me; “You know I hate to go home…”

Steve is married, has kids, his wife is nice enough. But he sets everything possible away from home. If you are depending on him for a lift and the meeting ends at 7:00 he will be on spot until the last person straggles out.

Marie is the same.

If you go anywhere with her, she has to be the last to leave. She’s married, and as some kind of diversion will often call her husband when she’s about thirty minutes out, en route to home.

You’d think for a person who is a singleton, being the last to leave a place makes sense. They are going to an empty house, so might as well stay and drain all possible social contact.

Yet, even a singleton has ‘things to do’ at home.

These married people seem to only feel good when they are away from home.  Away from their spouse.

It is so evident they are unhappily married that they might as well wear a sign.

It is not that they are having fun and don’t want to leave; it is that the fun ended ten minutes ago.  That everyone has gone through the gate, and they are still there,  talking about nothing.  Trying to engage others in conversation.