The Observer, February 17, 2006
Volume XXXVIII, Issue 17
Worst Case Scenario: Family
One of the many perks of attending college is the opportunity to fly the proverbial coop – nay, prison – of the family domicile. This detachment is so appealing that it can be taken to excess; I believe my parents filed a missing persons report on me during my freshman year.
While I did enjoy the brief notoriety I received for my appearances on milk cartons and junk mail, I was a bit bummed to find my room rented out to a guy named Joe.
I was not received quite as joyously as the prodigal son returned, but my family was still gracious enough to permit me room and board over break. Really, this was all I wanted from them (well, okay, and car access), but I felt I could have had more with a few basic lifestyle changes.
My first strategy was to do chores not only willingly, but before being asked! Who cares if this meant that I ran the dishwasher when it was empty or that I took garbage cans to the street three days early? I was trying! The only mishap was the debacle of preemptive cat litter changing. Poor kitten.
Once my parents adjusted to these overly punctual labors, they became less bitter and annoyed at my occasionally untimely acts of random tidying. Like when I cleared the table and cleaned the plates minutes after dinner was served. Who really likes meat loaf anyway? I'd go to Leutner if I would do anything for love.
Slowly, my considerate efforts became legitimately helpful and rarely detrimental to our budget. (Highly necessary in light of Case's ever-rising tuition.)
Over the years, my strategy evolved into kindness rather than kind acts. I continued to do my chores (and only occasionally at absurdly early intervals), but I spiced them up with hints of love and dashes of affection: hugs, embraces, and "I love you"s – even sincere!
The results were apparent. By summer break, I had reclaimed nearly exclusive rights to my room, though pets were granted my bed's comforts if they looked sick as, well, a dog. Every now and then I could even eat at the table.
I continued to wage my war of love during the school year, mailing, e-mail, and, yes, E.T., phoning home. These communicative endeavors spawned quick payback; my scrawny letters were returned as obese packages, which, fittingly, tried to turn me obese as well.
Ultimately, they failed at their fattening efforts, but filled out my life if not my waistline. My teeth, on the other hand, suffered greatly.
So it turns out Moses had it right: Honor thy father and thy mother that your days may be long in the land you are given – the land away from them.
