Parents and trees

Being at my parent's house is weird and horrible. I get frustrated with the way my parents treat me, which is some mixture of a free-thinking adult and a three-year-old. I got so frustrated tonight that I yelled at them. However, I can't really say I regret doing it. I hope that doesn't make me a horrible person.

This past fall, my parents had to take out two trees from our back yard. One was over 75 feet tall. It was a beautiful two-trunk cottonwood, which had served as plentiful shade (and also first base in our childhood whiffle ball games). The other was a modest white pine. The yard looks completely different (and also largely empty) despite the two remaining trees. It's weird to adjust to, but the weirdest thing is that in order to take the cottonwood out, a crane had to be brought into our neighbors' yard. So they have a different tree in their front yard now, making their house not look at all like the memories I have of it. There is no more tulip poplar there, now there is a small maple.