Division and Classification Essay: Parent Lectures


By Raees Loonat
Edited by Andrew Yandell

The Dyson Level 3 Root Cyclone™ is the most efficient technology for capturing microscopic dust. You know what else sucks? Lectures suck. Especially lectures from your parents. They suck almost as much as a Level 2 Root Cyclone™. My parents give me plenty of lectures. I have broken up these lectures into 3 major groups: grades, being grateful, and manners. All of these lectures have been given to me, and some, more frequently than others.

As I’m sure most of you can relate, being a UHS student boils down to grades, more grades, and a bit of grades on the side. My parents do have a TUSD stats account, so they can monitor my grades all the time. If my grades slip, I receive a dreaded lecture. For example, I will have just finished vacuuming my living room, of course using my Dyson Level 23 Turbine head™, when my mom walks up smiling and in a great mood. “How are your grades looking honey?” she asks in a motherly tone. Suddenly, my spidey senses start tingling and I know a sudden flurry of words in a lecture format will assault me. I try and answer the question as normally as I can without arousing suspicion, and my reply is, “I don’t know.” Suddenly my mom erupts with rage and the sky seems to turn black. At this point I know what is coming, the lecture. At first it is pretty simple, “Oh really, are you sure you’re not dropping your GPA or possibly failing a class?” I attempt to reassure my mom, “No I think everything is fine.” This is when it gets a little messy, which is unfortunate because I just finished vacuuming, “Oh really, because that assignment for Chemistry is missing. I thought you said you did it.” “Well…I…uh” I do vaguely remember glancing at it between Call of Duty and Gears of War 3. The good news is that I don’t have worry about missing another assignment because there are now stacks of books and papers where my Xbox used to be.

Next up is being ungrateful. Just about every kid, UHS or otherwise, experiences these once or twice a year. One day we’re at Sears shopping for house stuff. My mom is looking at the new Dyson Cyclone 26 Multi-floor while I’m looking at the big screen televisions. So I decide that my birthday was coming up, and I needed a TV for my room anyway, why not ask?  Even though I only asked once, my mom figured that I was constantly nagging for it. She turned around and looked at me with a glare only reserved for her emergency use. Her mouth opened, and I knew it was that time again, another lecture, another lecture that I wasn’t going to like and was not looking forward to. There was talk of how hard she works and how I just can get handed stuff. There was also the short conversation about the several TVs already residing in my home, so I didn’t actually need one for myself. I tried to hold my ground by stating that all of the TVs are occupied and there are no TVs for me to watch. It is funny how I have to look up to my mom during these lectures, even though I am taller than her. I shall always regret asking for something “just because I want it.” Parents don’t like it very much obviously.

The last lecture involves manners. The lecture mostly only pops up when I am going to a friend’s house. When she drives me up to my friend’s house, the lecture begins. This lecture involves such phrases as, “don’t forget to say please and thank you, never talk with your mouth full, and remember to clean up after yourself.” I have heard my mom utter the phrases, “Raees pull your pants up; you look like one of those gang members. Raees sharing is caring. I didn’t just buy all of these chocolates for you.  Raees, remember to hang up your Dyson Cyclone 31 Animal™.” Getting this lecture isn’t that annoying. A nice reminder is okay, but after how many times she has said this to me, it is forever burned into my skull. It’s like falling from an airplane, the falling is bearable enough; you can grit your teeth and get through it. The sudden stop at the end though is the worst part. Like lectures, the end is a catastrophic event that ends in grounding, isolation, technological sovereignty, or possible death depending on how high the plane was.

In conclusion, lectures will always exist. Parents will give their children lectures frequently and consistently. You can’t do anything about it when it comes up, so just sit there and listen to it. Where there are parents, there are lectures. As long as there are children, there is an audience for those lectures. As long as there is a dirty carpet, there will always be a Dyson Vacuum™.

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