“I haven’t talked to my parents in a week,” a friend told me.

My only response? “My mom told me to stop calling her three times a day.” Lame. I can’t help it; I call my parents all the time. Usually it’s when I have two minutes to kill and I want to be able to hang up if something better comes along, but still, I call them.

I recently went nearly four weeks with out speaking to either of my parents. At first it was a coincidence. After a week, though, I wanted to see how long I could go. I got a rush every time I picked up my phone but had the self-will to put it down.

When we finally talked, it was anti-climactic.

“Did you hear about the cats,” my dad said.

“Dad, I haven’t spoken to you since April eighth,” I declared.

“Really? Huh, I thought we talked the other day,” he said.

What! I knew the date, and he didn’t even notice. Welcome to my life.

That night I talked to both my parents for at least 30 minutes each. Know what I realized? Being independent means admitting that it’s okay to be dependent on some people. Sure, it’s cool that I’m living on my own, but that doesn’t mean I can’t call them for the never-ending wisdom and advice they have. Parents are great, and it might have taken me a month of ignoring them to remember it, but at least I did.