Dave's Grand University Adventure: From Mum's Milk to Mystery Rashes.
He’s leaving home for the first time. I remember when I left home I felt lonely for three days. Then I discovered vodka and forgot my postcode. Dave’s mum packed him sandwiches, condoms, and a copy of The Catcher in the Rye. I said, “
"Unless Holden Caulfield pays your rent, you’re going need a job and a tetanus shot.”
By the time he graduates, he’ll be a grown up. Exhausted, hideously in debt, and unable to imagine going to bed sober. That’s not adulthood, that’s a stag weekend in Blackpool! He’ll have a degree in something useless like ‘Media Studies and Interpretive Dance’. Fabulous! He can mime his way through unemployment.
And the debt! Oh my God, the debt! He’ll owe so much money, his student loan officer will be his emergency contact. “In case of fire, please notify Barclays.”
But he’ll be fine. He’ll learn to cook pasta seventeen ways, all of them wrong. He’ll fall in love with someone who thinks deodorant is a conspiracy. And he’ll come home for Christmas with a nose ring, a philosophy minor, and a new appreciation for toilet paper.
Dave, welcome to adulthood. It’s like childhood, but with bills, hangovers, and no one cares if you cry. Mazel tov!
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