C-Day Minus Three: Dorm Essentials
Choosing which items to buy and/or pack for my son’s rookie foray into post-secondary university housing should be simple. The items should be the ones I, his mother, choose.
After all, who knows better what he should have than I, his mother, myself a veteran of communal living quarters in the mid to late ’70s at Purdue University. That would be the same Purdue of Len Dawson, Bob Griese, Mike Phipps, Dave Butz, Drew Brees and Kyle Orton. And you can bet your spiral pass that those boys’ mothers chose their dorm essentials, too.
Last night my husband and my son’s father, who happen to be the same man, attempted to point out not only the errors in my choices but also the flaws in my reasoning. “I was an eighteen-year-old boy going away to college,” my husband declared, “and I know what he needs and what he’ll be branded a girlie man for having.”
This is a misguided primal need exhibited by fathers in order to protect their sons from the girlie man label and keep them steeped in the manly man category. Grunting and back slapping are optional.
And so it went.
A fan for cooling and proper air circulation. Won’t need one, quipped my husband. The dorm is air-conditioned. The fact that the thermostat is controlled by the university housing czar and that when winter comes could be set at 78 degrees is irrelevant.
A container for Q-tips. A cute but manly one that can sit atop his dresser along with assorted toiletries. Nope. A waste. Store brand sandwich-size baggies will do the job. Delirium. My son living out of baggies? Not happening.
Febreeze to simulate partially pleasant odors in his room as needed, particularly before a visit from parents. What for? Let him open the window and fan a towel to suck in the fresh air.
Face lotion. He can use body lotion, my husband insisted. No, he can’t. He needs special face lotion so he isn’t slathering additional muck on his expensive dermatologist-groomed face.
Antimicrobial pillow and mattress protectors to ward off foreign pathogens. Unnecessary. It’s like day care, my husband said. Expose the kid to as many germs as possible. It’ll build up his immunity. Over my dead menopausal body.
Storage organizers for his closet and drawers. To have a place for everything and keep everything in its place. What fantasy was I indulging, my husband gibed. This was the kid who has one storage receptacle. That being the floor space in front of his closet. I shot my husband The Look and added a multitiered storage cart to my shopping list.
But to keep his testosterone from hyperventilating, I’ll pass on the cucumber melon shower gel.
Sandy,
I see I am late to the party, but I wanted to wish you all the best in preparing for your son’s new adventure. I can still remember my freshman year of college. Now that I think about it, that was 10 years ago this month. My mother drove me down to school and help get me settled into my new dorm room. I can’t speak to this stage in life from a mother’s perspective, but I do have a sense of what your son is thinking. At least I know what he will remember in ten years. It will mean the world to have his family with him as he starts this next stage in his life. Best wishes.
Thank you so much, Nathan. It went well. He’s doing well. I’m still recovering!