2009 graduation gifts for the parent with children who won't move out.
May 12 '09
The Bottom Line Yes, you love your children but are you in that great of a hurry to have to feed and support them again?
It would be easy to write a review about all the cutesy, kitschy knick-knacks and cheap worthless crap that parents can buy for their spawn to welcome them into the world of adulthood. As spawn myself, I know that graduating college was one of the most liberating experiences of my life. It allowed me to consider myself one of the intellectual elite, to proudly show the world that academia had deemed me worthy of a spiffy piece of paper with elaborate penmanship, denoting that I, Spookymonkey, was a bachelor. It also allowed me more time to practice being a bachelor and engage in the mating rituals of spookymonkettes.
That's not what a Bachelor's Degree means.
Says you. For the new college graduate or the high school graduate with sub-par intelligence, the real world is not a welcoming place. Collegiate co-eds, rather than embark into a career in the new world, are making their way back to their parental units to engage in a few months (or years) of heavy moochery and employment rejection. They have no idea that there's a recession going on. Their grades haven't been influenced. They've still got full bongs and you've been sending them money to buy 'books' (read: alcohol) to get them through the school year. The apartment you've been renting for them (that now closely resembles a brothel raised from the ashes of a slop trough) is abandoned at the cost of a security deposit. They've passed into adulthood and now they're going to come back to the womb that is your front door.
Bu-bu-but I love my children!
Yeah, that's nice. I don't. They smell. They're funny-looking. And they're going to quickly take up all your time like they did when they wore diapers and screamed, snot-nosed, all night and day over cheap toys and macaroni and cheese. They'll hog the remote. They'll create laundry piles of clothing descrated by unknown smells and stains. They'll destroy your house in a most Nordic fashion.
Help, Spookymonkey! What do I do? My lovely snowflake child sleeps til noon and makes no effort to find a job!
That's natural. They've already prepared a rolodex worth of semi-valid excuses.
"Waah, we're in a recession!"
"I should have stayed in school for a Master's! Can I borrow some money?"
"They're biased against me because of my collegiate affiliation and possibly my constant state of inebriation!"
"I went to Florida State! The degree was honorary!"
Relax, dear Epinions readers - here's a few gifts to bestow upon your graduate to get them mildly motivated and out of your house.
Clocky the Robot Alarm Clock
Does your child sleep til noon? Here's a $60 solution. Clocky is the best sentient timepiece on the market. Simply set the alarm time and the number of snooze minutes allowed and then allow clocky to do his thing. Once the snooze minutes has been reached, Clocky begins to spurt obnoxious noises and jump from the nightstand (able to leap up to three feet) and will find a spot to hide in the room. Clocky also has a random alarm to grate every aural sense known to man. Once your child gets up to find the despicable timepiece to turn it off, you hit them with a club and throw them on the front porch. Problem solved.
Clocky is available in a myriad of colors and his legs can be detached to convert him into a regular alarm clock, but that can be remedied by superglue. (available at Shop.com)
Wordlock
Since your child is now home and requires all the creature comforts that any human being would, it's time for you to start claiming what's yours. In case you'd forgotten, most young adults consume approximately forty times their own body weight in food daily - but only food that you want to eat. They won't eat anything healthy or what is specifically bought for them, but food that either has your name on it, is being saved for a special occasion or that which costs a small fortune. By investing in wordlocks, you can shut down your fridge, your pantry - hell, any food-keeping device. Wordlock differs in that the combination is a selected word rather than a numerical device. So when your child wants to put together a cold-cut sandwich and a can of coke, they'll have to spell out the word PAYRENT or MOVEOUT. Reinforcement is the key here.
You may feel that this is a drastic measure, but when you come home and find they've cracked your 40-year old single malt and cut it with Mountain Dew, you'll discover your mind quickly changed.
(Price varies, available at Target and other not-so-fine retailers)
Durex Water-based condoms
This one will require some effort. Nothing grosses children out than the thought of their parents doing the hibbity-dibbity. Especially when they are home. So next time you find yourself at Rite-Aid or Winn-Dixie, pick up a few boxes of these. Next time your child leaves the house, sprinkle them all about like potpourri. Open every second one. Leave them in conspicuous places. The next step is crucial - absolutely refuse to acknowledge their presence. Within a week, the thought of your wrinkly geriatric self and your partner engaged in coital acts on the sofa will force them to seek solace elsewhere. Of course, if you decide that you'd like to hump your spouse on the kitchen table, that's entirely your perogative. I suggest a good vinyl tablecloth. (<$10, available just about anywhere)
Mossberg Riot Shotgun
This should your last bastion of defense. The Mossberg 590 tactical shotgun is compact and easyto handle, short-barrelled for quick draw and easy concealment. The open choke gives a wide shot spread in case your child has quick reflexes or has several friends. The pump-action here also provides the necessary bad-assitude to convince your children that you mean business and that, yes, they need to get out and get a job. Despite the fact that this has traditionally been military or police issue for a number of years, it is now available to the general public. Am I advocating the massacring of your child? Of course not - fill it with birdshot or rock salt. Scars build character and character gets jobs.
This is the worst graduation gift list ever, Spookymonkey.
My parents are stocking up as we speak.
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SpookyMonkey
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Location: Gulf Shores, AL
Reviews written: 138
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Spookymonkey - Occam's Gillette Mach 3 Turbo.
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