How Not to be a Freshman: The one with Family Weekend
As a girl who considers herself to be close with her family, I was actually very excited for this past weekend. I had cleaned my room, looked up some good restaurants, and even called my parents to tell them how excited I was for their impending arrival. I was probably over-prepared for Family Weekend, but I soon realized I was extremely underprepared for my actual family.
The weekend started off well enough and was marked by an exchange of hugs, questions, and a plethora of winter clothes. Then, to my surprise, my mother revealed the Saturday she had planned: a trip to Newport that included a historic tour and play. The a capella concert I thought we could see was going to have to wait. My family piled into our Honda and soon began the journey to Newport. I knew the weekend was heading in a bad direction when my brother began to lecture us on the benefits of wrestling and my dad lost three parking spots to the more aggressive Rhode Island drivers. Tensions were running high and my mom’s overzealous attempts at keeping us all on schedule weren’t helping.
After touring the Breakers mansion, where I felt smothered by the creepy marble cherubs, my family and I missed the RIPTA bus and were forced to wait on the sidewalk for another 20 minutes until another one came back. My brother christened me nASS (not as smart sibling) in his boredom and my mom was not happy. Our Family Weekend was falling apart! Eventually, we made it back to our car with just enough time to get to the play that my parents insisted we had to see. I’ve seen a few plays in my feeble attempts to become more cultured, but this one was weird.
For starters, my brother and I were the youngest people in the theater by about 50 years. The play centered around two recently widowed senior citizens (what a surprise) who get married in order to dupe the federal government and avoid paying taxes. I fell asleep about thirty minutes in and woke up an hour later to see two geezers sucking face on stage. I kid you not. I don’t know how macking it relates to taxes, but I was scarred to say the least.
Sunday was better. We brunched and then I said goodbye to my perfectly imperfect family and was thankful that I didn’t have to partake in the seven-hour car ride home with them. As I sat in my dorm room, basking in the solitude and silence, I realized how much I’ve changed in the seven weeks I’ve been at college. I’ve become more independent, more self-aware, but also, more attuned to my family’s annoying habits and silly quirks.
I did everything I could to make my Family Weekend a success but I forgot to do the most important thing: remember what I love, and don’t exactly love, about my family. I toured a giant mansion, saw a horrible play about old people, and spent like three hours in a car but, I did it all with my crazy, overbearing, and amazing family. If you ask me, I think that’s a great way to spend a weekend.