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When do the Laundry Fairies Show Up?

A Humorous Look at Life Skills Needed at College

by Hanne Moon

I guess I would be called a female sexist. I admit, while they were growing up, my children’s chores were divided mostly along lines of gender. My son Jason mowed the yard, ran the tractor, and helped his daddy with fences. The girls, Misty and Nikki, were relegated to cooking, cleaning, and laundry.

It seemed to work fine for us. Jason didn’t choose to attend college. He apprenticed under an HVAC journeyman and went to work right out of high school. Misty and Nikki have both just graduated from college.  At the time I packed them off, I was convinced there was nothing else I could teach them about domestic chores.

“Here’s your suitcase, the TV is set up in the dorm, and you have $20 for gas this week – have fun. Bye.”

Boy, was I wrong.

If phone signals were flammable, our lines would have burned up the first week.

Nikki called me up and asked me for the recipe for holy water.  My hot-tempered youngest wanted to exorcise the demons in the community stove.  I tried to explain to her that stoves were like friends – each has different quirks and habits that you have to learn, but she was too mad to listen.

I finally told her that I didn’t think the administration would approve sprinkling an appliance that ran on 240 volts with liquid.

She was more afraid of being electrocuted than getting into trouble with the school.

My oldest daughter Misty is a pack-rat.  She took everything but the kitchen sink with her when she left for college.  After 47 million trips to the third floor with a dolly, and three car-loads later, we finally got her moved in.  I tried to tell her she would be living in a sardine can, but the child never listens.

The first week there, one of the guys on their floor, (an engineer wannabe), was practicing his culinary skills with the microwave.  He let a bag of popcorn burn up, which set off the fire alarms.  Everyone was forced outside in their jammies at three o’clock in the morning.

Both the girls decided that the best thing they could do to pass the time while they waited to be let back in was to call mom.

I could have killed them all.

Feel free to borrow some of the following pearls of wisdom for pre-college conversations with your clueless teenager.  These were gleaned from conversations with my own daughters.  It might save you from being awakened at three o’clock in the morning…but I wouldn’t count on it.

  • A washer and dryer is not complicated. Despite what you might have been led to believe, there are no laundry fairies. If you’re in college, you can do laundry. Of course for the guys, playing dumb is a great way to meet girls.
  • If you want groceries, you have to go shopping. There are no grocery fairies either. If all else fails, use the meal card. Mom and dad have paid for it.
  • Speaking of money, it doesn’t grow on trees. You can’t overdraw your account and expect me to keep bailing you out. The next weekend you’re home, we’re going to have a talk about budgets and finances.
  • And speaking of the next time you’re home, don’t come in and dump your laundry on the floor and expect that I’ll do it. You’re all grown up now. You get to wash your own clothes.
  • Sometimes you have to clean. Mold growing on two-week old pizza that’s still sitting on the kitchen counter is not attractive. It can make you sick. Please throw it away.
  • Leaving the curling iron plugged in and on is a fire hazard. I’m not there to turn it off anymore. If you have to run outside at three o’clock in the morning because your room catches fire from that thing, do not call me. I know where you live.
  • If your car makes a weird noise, or any red lights start flashing on the dash, do not keep driving it. Call me – but not at three in the morning. If you blow this one up, you get to buy the next one.
  • Think about safety. Just because it’s a college campus with a bunch of kids, doesn’t mean it’s safer. If you have to walk from class after dark, walk with someone else. I love you and don’t want you to get hurt.

All this nostalgia makes me plumb weepy. Gosh, I’m going to miss these days when they’re gone. Maybe I should go to bed early so I can get up at three a.m. and give the girls a call, just for old time’s sake.

I’m sure they’d appreciate the trip down memory lane as much as I would.