Not only can you probably quit your family, you will, eventually.
Last night, when your sister announced her official resignation from the family, it was hilarious.
When your tinier sister leaned her forehead against a window pane and said very mournfully, “I don’t care for any fish sticks and I don’t want to live here any more,” it was a high comedy, because it’s always funny when the kid cannot actually leave.
If she were 18 and independent, it would not be nearly as amusing.
Even in the improbable case of the family that is “perfect,” it’s not possible to be perfect for everyone. Somebody is always going to get morose about monotonous dinners.
Your college-aged siblings think that they have quit the family about 75%. They are out in the wider world, scavenging for their own school supplies and noodles. They have ideas, they have plans, and they have a tendency to call home immediately about car trouble.
We don’t hear from them very often, but the I know that they haven’t really quit the family because (A) they come home at breaks and (B) they completely freak out if we mention selling the house and living on a small boat.
You will quit, though. You may become horribly furious with most of us and quit in a huff. It may last for hours or it may last for years. Family is weird like that.
Little kids are horrified by the idea of being separated for any length of time. Bigger kids get homesick at various rates, and still bigger kids may not even recognize that a pang for fish sticks means they need to call home.
If we’re doing this right, you all will quit enough to form a new family, and you all will wonder exactly when you quit.