"It's happening. My partner and I are turning into my parents."

It’s happening. Every child’s worst nightmare — except worse, because I’m not even sure I really have a problem with it.

Let me explain.

My partner and I are both in our mid-twenties. But over the last few months, we’ve been acting like a couple of old fuddy duddies.

To be specific, my Dad, 53, and my Step Mum, age unknown.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with my parents, or their relationship. They’re a fantastic example of a strong, loving marriage and I enjoy their company immensely.

But, how should I put this… they’re a bit lame. Brutal, but it’s the truth. Nothing gives a parent greater joy than embarrassing their children, and similarly for a child, paying out their ‘rents for all their daggy behaviours.

Like going for long walks and watching Netflix with the subtitles on, presumably to aid their fading hearing. Because they're, you know, old.

This is all well and good, right? Just a bit of harmless fun, yeah? It was, until my partner and I found ourselves, just a couple of millennials on the couch, watching Netflix. With subtitles. On a Friday night. Eating ice cream together from the same bowl.

Like a meme gone wrong, we're turning into my parents. Or a couple of those dogs wrapped in dressing gowns.

When we FaceTime, I can't seem to hold the camera in a way that doesn't give him a view of my double chins and straight up my nose.

Going to get a coffee is a major outing for us now, and we've gotten into long walks.

These shouldn't be mistaken for hikes, which I see hip couples doing in matching activewear on Instagram. The only 'hip' thing about our walks is my left one, which I complain about every few metres.

Listen: Andrew Daddo on embarrassing things parents do... like talking about condoms (post continues after audio...)

Aside from the occasional night on the town that ends with us eating various takeaway in bed by around 1am, 'drinks' are now 'a drink'.

Like that time we recently set out for some dinner and alcoholic beverages, telling ourselves we'd 'see where the night takes us'. It took us precisely one espresso martini before we turned to one another and mouthed the word 'bed'.

And the selfies. Dear god, the endless unflattering selfies of our chubby mugs pressed together.

Even though part of me is disgusted with our regression into boring, old married couple territory, the nanna in me is totally fine with it, because bed (aka sleep) kind of trumps most things in my life at the moment.

My parents will put this change in priorities down to full-time work and finally being an adult. I'm choosing to look at it as JOMO: finding joy in 'missing out' on weeknight social gatherings and hangovers.

Regardless of what's going on here, I'd just like to apologise to my parents for mercilessly tormenting them about always being in tattered ugg boots. I get it now.

Are you and your partner like an old married couple? Do you prefer to stay in these days?