Lisa writes: I have a parenting confession to make. I have gone to one of my sons’ dorms and done his laundry. I have scraped every dirty sock and jersey off of his bedroom floor, carefully separating his debris from that of his two roommates which was all commingled in one large reeking mass. I then carried these teeming piles, along with every sheet and towel I could lay my hands on, to his basement and ran six loads of laundry.
I did this once on a Parents’ Weekend and, just when I thought I had lost it, taken my overparenting to a new level, his roommate’s mother looked at and me and said, “Too bad the boys don’t have a vacuum” and then proceeded to take a lint roller out of her handbag and roll their entire carpet on her hands and knees. I was stunned. Was I outparented or had I finally discovered the line I would not cross?
