I've forgotten what it's like to be free from my parents' reign. In fact, coming back home for the summer has been quite the culture shock.
I miss all the little things that you never realize you can do as a college student living on your own but can't do as a 21-year-old living under your parents' roof.
First of all, not many people in college wake up on the weekends before 10 a.m. Not so at home. My dad's favorite activity on Saturday mornings is yard-sale-ing. (Why would you wake up at 7 a.m. just to be the first to stand in someone's front yard and look at their old Peter Frampton records?!)
He's not quiet about it either. He grinds his own coffee beans now, so after creaking down the wooden stairs to the kitchen and slamming everything around (my dad's nickname was "Crash" when he worked as a bartender in college), he starts up that unequivocally high-pitched machine for a good two minutes. Sound familiar anyone? I can hear all this because we live in an old-house that has no HVAC system to provide white noise. It seems parents have no concept of what constitutes noise pollution to the college student's ear.
At school, not only does no one move before 10, but no activity is going on anywhere really. I don't have to hear John mowing the yard next door, my mom talking to Linda on the phone about where they're going to walk that day and their newest book-club books, or even anything at all except the trains that roll through C-Ville on what seems like an hourly basis. No longer can I sleep in.
The early morning noises of my parents are the last things I want to hear after I've spent a Friday night downtown. Which brings me to my next issue...
At home, I'm suddenly faced with the fact that I can't stumble in drunk at 4 a.m. anymore without waking up both of my parents, who have to wake up for work approximately three hours later. At school, my roommates wouldn't care because they'd be passed out by then and too deep in Stage 4 of the sleep cycle to wake up to the Apocalypse.
We go out any night of the week at school. Tuesdays at Biltmore for $2 pitchers, Coupe's on Wednesdays for Benny Dodd, Thursdays at O'Neill's for Survivor Hour (it's more low-key than Biltmore -- you get more drinks quicker) and of course Friday and Saturday are the weekend. My parents for some reason think that I'm going to restrict my social life to Friday and Saturday. I think not.
As a result, more than once in the month I've been home late and a very angry parent has flipped on the kitchen lights in the wee hours to find me fumbling around in the fridge for some type of late-night snack. I usually tend to giggle and laugh because my mom's hair is sticking out in all directions since she's been asleep for a few hours, and my dad's eyes seem to be glued shut, but they don't usually laugh with me. It is, after all, 3:45 on a Tuesday morning, either parent will inevitably remind me.
On the rare occasion that I wake up before my parents on a work day, I am usually faced with another problem. I am one of those people who take forever in the shower, for no good reason, except maybe to fall asleep cheek-to-the-wall every now and again. My parents have to be at work at reasonable hours and seeing as how we only have one shower, they never let me shower in peace. They pound on the door, yell, and rudely interrupt my happy moments with my Herbal Essence (just like in the commercials). At school, this is never a problem.
Among these major issues of lifestyle differences are scattered what I have titled "Mom's Little Life Tidbits." Less are they tidbits of advice and more are they just her nagging me. Daily tidbits may include: "Did you brush your teeth?" (as I'm walking out the door) "Put your dishes in the dishwasher!" (as my hand is opening the latch to the dishwasher already) Pick up your clothes up off the floor!" (as I'm sorting my laundry) "Make your bed!" (while I'm still sleeping in it).
This nagging is totally and utterly unnecessary because I've learned in college to do these things on my own as a result of taking care of myself. But the best thing about being at school is that if I don't want to do any of those things, I don't have to! I only have to answer to myself.
Needless to say, while I love my parents, eating their food, living for free in their house, and enjoying their company, I'm itching to go back to Charlottesville. August cannot come quick enough. Holler if you hear me.
Lindsay McCook can be reached at mccook@cavalierdaily.com.
Read More
It’s okay not to be okay
By Mai Hukuoka | 3 days agoWhether talking to a friend, a loved one or a professional, it is so necessary, and human, to need more than you can provide for yourself.
Taking a break at Tangerines Kitchen
By Charley Thomas | 4 days agoWhat the restaurant somewhat lacks in ambiance, it compensates for in tasty dishes and prompt service.
Virginia Policy Lab — a hub for student-led policy action
By Katherine Haden | December 9, 2024Students propose their own projects and collaborate with other members to research their issues of interest, brainstorm solutions and write policy proposals.
