Rosie Labrun is a lot of things: a college student on the cusp of graduation; an intern for the Portland Pirates, a romance novel connoisseur; and the most recent addition to her resume...the girlfriend of a professional athlete.
She won't let it d...
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I think one of the hardest parts about growing up, is realizing that your parents aren't perfect.
Ever since I was a child, I always thought my parents were the end-all, be-all; everything they said was written in stone; and anyone that disputed their claims, was full of shit. In some ways, I guess I got lucky. My parents are both relatively healthy (minus my dad's arthritis), relatively sane (most days), and care about me. To a lot of people, that would be hitting the jackpot.
But everyone has things that went wrong for them; ways that their parents fucked them up during their childhood, that they probably couldn't win a lawsuit against. Whether it's working too much, talking too little, or trying to live vicariously through them when they try out for the football team, everyone has something.
What was it for me? You may be wondering. What could a professional hockey player, that grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and was born into a legacy family, complain about? Getting the wrong color Range Rover for his sixteenth birthday? Not being allowed to host underaged parties, weekly, at their house? Being given only an allowance of a few thousand dollars monthly, just for the basics?
Brought to you by the iced latte that Rosie graciously let me drink the majority of this morning, here's the list of rules that existed - or should I say, didn't exist, in the King household:
1. We do not talk about feelings, unless they're "proud" and related to hockey.
You broke up with your longtime girlfriend? Good. You shouldn't have been getting distracted. You're having a bad day? Go to the gym. Do some training. You're feeling "down". God forbid anyone in my house ever muttered that sentiment. Mental health, being soft, it was seen as a weakness; and Kings, we are not weak. We weren't at least. Not until my brother got checked into rehab a few weeks ago - or should I say, went for vacation.
2. We do not make the King family look bad.
Your last name - even more so than the jersey that you wear on your back, is the most important representation of you. Wear it with pride, wear it with grace; be humble, don't make us look bad. Don't talk about that screaming match you saw your brother get into with your mom, or the fact that your dad seems to spend an alarming amount of time on his phone.
Everything is perfect; and if it isn't? Well, you're thinking too hard.
3. And last, but not least - we pray before every meal. It doesn't matter if nobody's been to church in five years and the only cross in the house is laying on the floor in the basement.
"Well look what the cat dragged in." My dad jokes, when he walks through the front door. He's holding his phone in one hand and a bag for the liquor cabinet in the other. If you saw him when he was playing in the league, you would think he's a different person.
He changed a lot when he retired; stopped working out and started drinking a lot. The only times when he really seems like himself is when he has a broadcasting gig - or when someone asks him about the glory days. But other than that, he's just kind of a dick.
