today, particularly in Dublin, she merely laughs at me. I argue that it’s difficult for young people to get a foot on the property ladder, and she counters that it always was. Though my parents’ first home cost an amount that would today barely buy you a working second hand car, at that time, it was as difficult to afford as houses are today. Most young people had been working to help finance their family of origin, and had little left over for anything else. Generally, we are better off than our parents were at our age – and yet we have less to our name, in terms of assets.

Most of us don’t want to be still living with our parents when we hit forty – and let’s face it, our parents don’t des

Perhaps it’s simply because I’m at that age, but I’ve noticed that over the past few years the number of young adults still living with their parents has risen considerably. As a kid, I remember gleefully imagining the days when I would be free from the shackles of my parents, out on my own, and doing whatever the hell I wanted, and every friend I had shared enthusiastically in that dream. So why, now that we are grown up, are so many of us staying at home with Mam and Dad until they have grown desperate for their freedom from us?

I say us, because I am one of the guilty too. I’m twenty-nine years old, and only living in my own home a few years – purchased, it has to be added, with financial help from my parents. My Mother was completely supportive of my living with her but since I have moved out has waxed extremely lyrical about how great it is to be living on her own, and thinking only of herself. What with raising her two, at times difficult children, to the loss of her husband, my Dad, a few years ago, I think it’s about time she started looking after herself. I say that now, but still expected to be welcomed at her house well into my adult years. Such are our mixed feelings about living with our parents. We want the best of all worlds.

My generation has received, in my own opinion, more bad press than it deserves. We aren’t all the materialistic and self-involved brats that many older people seem to think us, but perhaps that is simply something every generation thinks of the one before. But there is little denying that things are different for us these days. At fifteen, my Mam was sent out to work, and gave up almost every penny she earned to keep the household afloat. As many of her generation did, she tried to give her children the things she never had herself, and as the Irish economy improved, this was much easier to do. Though I do not consider myself a spoilt person, I did have the feeling as a child that I could have anything that I wanted. Not that I would always get it, you understand, but the possibility of everything was there. And I know that this is an expectation that has quietly lingered into my adulthood.

But we are good kids too – we watched our parents work hard, and we learned our work ethic from them. But there was also a lot more fun to be had, and a lot more money to spend on having it, and we assumed that this was a necessary part of life. We have no qualms in spending money on the pursuit of our own happiness, and we have definite expectations of what our happiness requires – lots of clothes, lots of gadgets, and a whole load of alcohol to wash it down with. We are enjoying ourselves, and why shouldn’t we? But we can’t expect our parents to keep us forever.

When I talk to my mother about the ridiculousness of house prices today, particularly in Dublin, she merely laughs at me. I argue that it’s difficult for young people to get a foot on the property ladder, and she counters that it always was. Though my parents’ first home cost an amount that would today barely buy you a working second hand car, at that time, it was as difficult to afford as houses are today. Most young people had been working to help finance their family of origin, and had little left over for anything else. Generally, we are better off than our parents were at our age – and yet we have less to our name, in terms of assets.

Most of us don’t want to be still living with our parents when we hit forty – and let’s face it, our parents don’t dese

l help from my parents. My Mother was completely supportive of my living with her but since I have moved out has waxed extremely lyrical about how great it is to be living on her own, and thinking only of herself. What with raising her two, at times difficult children, to the loss of her husband, my Dad, a few years ago, I think it’s about time she started looking after herself. I say that now, but still expected to be welcomed at her house well into my adult years. Such are our mixed feelings about living with our parents. We want the best of all worlds.

My generation has received, in my own opinion, more bad press than it deserves. We aren’t all the materialistic and self-involved brats that many older people seem to think us, but perhaps that is simply something every generation thinks of the one before. But there is little denying that things are different for us these days. At fifteen, my Mam was sent out to work, and gave up almost every penny she earned to keep the household afloat. As many of her generation did, she tried to give her children the things she never had herself, and as the Irish economy improved, this was much easier to do. Though I do not consider myself a spoilt person, I did have the feeling as a child that I could have anything that I wanted. Not that I would always get it, you understand, but the possibility of everything was there. And I know that this is an expectation that has quietly lingered into my adulthood.

But we are good kids too – we watched our parents work hard, and we learned our work ethic from them. But there was also a lot more fun to be had, and a lot more money to spend on having it, and we assumed that this was a necessary part of life. We have no qualms in spending money on the pursuit of our own happiness, and we have definite expectations of what our happiness requires – lots of clothes, lots of gadgets, and a whole load of alcohol to wash it down with. We are enjoying ourselves, and why shouldn’t we? But we can’t expect our parents to keep us forever.

When I talk to my mother about the ridiculousness of house prices today, particularly in Dublin, she merely laughs at me. I argue that it’s difficult for young people to get a foot on the property ladder, and she counters that it always was. Though my parents’ first home cost an amount that would today barely buy you a working second hand car, at that time, it was as difficult to afford as houses are today. Most young people had been working to help finance their family of origin, and had little left over for anything else. Generally, we are better off than our parents were at our age – and yet we have less to our name, in terms of assets.

Most of us don’t want to be still living with our parents when we hit forty – and let’s face it, our parents don’t des

t many older people seem to think us, but perhaps that is simply something every generation thinks of the one before. But there is little denying that things are different for us these days. At fifteen, my Mam was sent out to work, and gave up almost every penny she earned to keep the household afloat. As many of her generation did, she tried to give her children the things she never had herself, and as the Irish economy improved, this was much easier to do. Though I do not consider myself a spoilt person, I did have the feeling as a child that I could have anything that I wanted. Not that I would always get it, you understand, but the possibility of everything was there. And I know that this is an expectation that has quietly lingered into my adulthood.

But we are good kids too – we watched our parents work hard, and we learned our work ethic from them. But there was also a lot more fun to be had, and a lot more money to spend on having it, and we assumed that this was a necessary part of life. We have no qualms in spending money on the pursuit of our own happiness, and we have definite expectations of what our happiness requires – lots of clothes, lots of gadgets, and a whole load of alcohol to wash it down with. We are enjoying ourselves, and why shouldn’t we? But we can’t expect our parents to keep us forever.

When I talk to my mother about the ridiculousness of house prices today, particularly in Dublin, she merely laughs at me. I argue that it’s difficult for young people to get a foot on the property ladder, and she counters that it always was. Though my parents’ first home cost an amount that would today barely buy you a working second hand car, at that time, it was as difficult to afford as houses are today. Most young people had been working to help finance their family of origin, and had little left over for anything else. Generally, we are better off than our parents were at our age – and yet we have less to our name, in terms of assets.

Most of us don’t want to be still living with our parents when we hit forty – and let’s face it, our parents don’t des

expectation that has quietly lingered into my adulthood.

But we are good kids too – we watched our parents work hard, and we learned our work ethic from them. But there was also a lot more fun to be had, and a lot more money to spend on having it, and we assumed that this was a necessary part of life. We have no qualms in spending money on the pursuit of our own happiness, and we have definite expectations of what our happiness requires – lots of clothes, lots of gadgets, and a whole load of alcohol to wash it down with. We are enjoying ourselves, and why shouldn’t we? But we can’t expect our parents to keep us forever.

When I talk to my mother about the ridiculousness of house prices today, particularly in Dublin, she merely laughs at me. I argue that it’s difficult for young people to get a foot on the property ladder, and she counters that it always was. Though my parents’ first home cost an amount that would today barely buy you a working second hand car, at that time, it was as difficult to afford as houses are today. Most young people had been working to help finance their family of origin, and had little left over for anything else. Generally, we are better off than our parents were at our age – and yet we have less to our name, in terms of assets.

Most of us don’t want to be still living with our parents when we hit forty – and let’s face it, our parents don’t des

today, particularly in Dublin, she merely laughs at me. I argue that it’s difficult for young people to get a foot on the property ladder, and she counters that it always was. Though my parents’ first home cost an amount that would today barely buy you a working second hand car, at that time, it was as difficult to afford as houses are today. Most young people had been working to help finance their family of origin, and had little left over for anything else. Generally, we are better off than our parents were at our age – and yet we have less to our name, in terms of assets.

Most of us don’t want to be still living with our parents when we hit forty – and let’s face it, our parents don’t deserve to be inflicted with us that long. Getting a foot on the property ladder is difficult, but it always has been, and if we want that independence that we longed for in childhood, it’s time to start thinking long term.

Saving a deposit can be our first obstacle – getting into the habit of putting a certain amount into a savings account each week is a great start. Some of the government saving schemes available these days can be a great way of earning some money, if you can afford to put away a bit for a while. Some of us will be lucky enough to have parents generous enough to help us with a deposit, or even more, to help us sort out a mortgage using their home as backup. But remember, this kind of help from our parents is not a right – it is a privilege that they are kind enough to share with us. They brought us into the world, but come on; we can’t hold them responsible for that forever.

They did their job, poor sods, they put up with us as babies, and cleaned up the mess we made as toddlers. They smiled politely when we asked what sex was, and they didn’t gag us when we threatened to eat them out of house and home. They deserve a break from us, and we need to learn all that is involved in becoming truly independent. There is nothing like the feeling of walking into your own home for the very first time. And then you have your parents over for dinner, and give out to them when they don’t eat their vegetables.