It’s a brand new school year at Lake Forest College, and the smell of academia is floating through the air. Faculty are teaching, staff are working, returning students have turned their brains on once again, and first-years are discovering elaborate new ways to disappoint their parents.
Sure, in high school you’ve achieved some level of parental failure like getting a C in Geometry because even though they gave you money for a tutor, you spent it on UGG’s and Patagonia fleeces. Or even staying out just a tad past curfew because you’re currently dating the “bad boy” and everything fun happens in the suburbs after 9 p.m. Yet now, students are realizing that college is really the place to hone your skills as an unorganized, unambitious slacker who has no regard for others.
If you weren’t naturally falling into the routine of religiously disappointmenting your parents, or if you don’t think you’re disappointing them at all, let me enlighten you:
- Have you told them that you (and everyone else on campus) have dropped your biology major and chemistry minor? Yes, parents, apparently it’s very probable that a liberal arts college will not produce a graduating class that’s 99% doctors.
- While you were at it, you also decided to not switch to a “practical” major like business or communication but instead decided to be a studio art and philosophy double major (with a theater minor but you’ve decided they’ve suffered too much to hear the whole story). Way to stick it to the man, kiddo.
- On your weekends, when you’re not slaving away at a canvas and thinking philosophically, you’re getting blackout wasted and throwing up into that decorative hamper Mommy bought you from an IKEA catalogue. I’m sure that’s exactly what she bought it for.
- After you’ve ruined this hamper, Mommy or Daddy were kind enough to send you money like they do every week because your ability to hold on to a dollar is awfully similar to your ability to hold your liquor.
- Now during the week you’re spending so much time trying to recover that you’re missing job opportunities left and right, but, I mean, hey, who wouldn’t want to keep supporting your adult-child complex until your thirties.
At the end of the day, even though you’re barely making it through by the skin of your teeth, at least you’re in college and you call them at least once or twice or monthly. As long as you’re not the cracked-out sibling in the family, you’ll still be the one they’ll brag about. Congrats!
