Submissively Satirical: Helicopter Parents: In The Updraft
November 8, 2017
Get your flashcards out. The words I hear every morning once the clock strike 5 a.m. Dragging myself out of bed, I stare at a list of thermodynamic equations for the next hour. Now, at 6 a.m., my dad quizzes me on the different reasons why World War I started while I brush my teeth.
As I make my way downstairs to eat a quick breakfast before going to school, my mom is already at the table with breakfast ready. What ever would I do without my parents? My mother carefully explains to me why it is so important to start the day learning at least 50 new facts about the wonders of the world and how it would help me get into Harvard, her dream I mean my dream school.
By 8 a.m., I am finally in school. As I go from class to class, I occasionally get texts from both my parents making sure that I’m learning. Of course, I ignore them because I know that they will surely call me during lunch to ask how class was and if I was paying attention to my teachers.
When school ends, mom is already waiting for me outside the school gates. I hop into the car while she breaks down my schedule for the day, from violin class to volunteering at a nearby soup kitchen. I have my mom do my math homework so that I can focus on my chemistry thesis about the importance of correctly calculating calorimetry in thermodynamics. Of course, it is all for the sake of getting into Harvard and their prestigious law program that I push myself everyday to be the most well-rounded student I know.
After a long day, I proceed to dump my bag near the kitchen table as soon as I am home (that’s where I always work so that my mom can monitor my progress) and then slump onto the nearby couch to rest for a few minutes. This is all before my mom sticks her head into the room to tell me to start working, after all, a law degree doesn’t just fall out of nowhere.
While I do my homework, my mom visits every 30 minutes to check on my work and to ensure that I am not doing anything unnecessary like asking my friend how their day was or calling grandma to wish her a happy birthday.
Once my dad is back from work, I can finally take a break and eat dinner. I take this opportunity to tell my parents about the award I received for my art piece, which pleases them. But my mom seems to be even happier about the fact I got a perfect score on my English essay. Oh well. It’s not like I wanted to pursue a career in art, a subject that I actually enjoy. That’s silly! Of course my parents know best.
I end my day and get into bed. I prepare myself for a new day of living out my parents’ dream.
