When I'm bored of an evening I have been known to give my husband a hard time for living at home until he was the ripe old age 23. It's not so strange these days but considered in the context of the 1980s it seems positively clingy.
I left my parents' home in Hawke's Bay to study in Wellington virtually the day I turned 18 - and never looked back. In fact, you couldn't have seen me for dust as I sat on that Newmans bus bound for Victoria University. At last I was leaving behind my hometown and almost anything was possible. It was an adventure.
In comparison, the growing trend for young adults today to keep living with their folks seems so banal, so defeatist, so comfortable, so unimaginative. What drives this group to remain at home way past the time it was once considered sociably acceptable? May I say here that I'm not talking about people who are financially stressed; obviously living at home with the parents makes sense when money is tight. And I'm not talking about young solo mums who need parental support or people going through a relationship breakup or other emotional crisis.
I'm not talking about people for whom independent living is inaccessible and I'm not talking about children who stay on at home to support their parents in some way. Nor am I referring to people for whom multi-generational living is a well established cultural tradition as it can be for Maori and people of the Pacific and the Mediterranean.
What I am referring to is the tendency for otherwise functional, seemingly capable adults who've grown up within a nuclear family unit to stay at home well past the time of needing their nappies changed and noses wiped. Freedom and independence no longer seemed to be prized by young adults. Why is that? Surely it can't be blamed entirely on high unemployment and the exorbitant cost of rental accommodation.