Oh, honey, I love you, but maybe it’s time for you to go back to school.
Because I don’t love how you make Bananas Foster in the kitchen with your boyfriend when I am trying to make dinner.
I don’t love your dark load on the floor, your white load in the washing machine, and your mixed load in the dryer.
I don’t love that you get up when I am having my afternoon tea.
I don’t love your messy room, your overflowing wastebasket, your lights left on, your heat left high.
I don’t love finding your friends sleeping in the basement when I want to work out.
I don’t love bright green Jello in the refrigerator sporting a yellow post it that warns: “Danger, may contain vodka.”
I don’t love pots with scum left in them in the sink when you think you’ve done the dishes.
I don’t love the water bottles and gum wrappers in the car.
I don’t love pans with leftover grilled cheese on the stove, and I don’t love chili powder spilled on the counter.
I don’t love your going out at 11:00PM, and forgetting to text that you are not coming home.
I don’t love your making chocolate pancakes with your brother at midnight, even if it means great sibling bonding.
I don’t love your one word answers.
I don’t love your coats, mittens, scarves, purses piled high on the kitchen table.
I don’t love your boots, your sneakers, your flip flops all askew in the mudroom.
I don’t love a tablespoon of ice cream left in the ice cream carton.
I don’t love your “borrowing” my Master Card and forgetting to return it.
I don’t love the constant texting of your friends.
I don’t love your attitude because there is nothing to do at home.
I really do love you, but sometimes I like you better at college.