It wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done.

As a college freshman, I went home during my first break feeling extraordinarily knowledgeable. My horizons had been broadened. My mind had been challenged. My life was expanding way beyond my middle-class suburban upbringing. All that highly intellectual course work, all those hours of hanging out in the coffee shop debating current events, all those late nights in the dorm lounge delving into the deep questions of the universe meant only one thing: I was now immensely wiser than my parents.

Oh, sure, they'd both earned college degrees. But that was ages ago. And besides, to look at them now, sitting in their three-bedroom home, eating Swedish meatballs, watching reruns of ancient and lame sitcoms, they were definitely not broadening their horizons, challenging their minds or expanding beyond their current lives.

In the months I'd been away at college, it seemed I'd grown by leaps and bounds while my family sat still. I didn't want to lose the ground I'd gained. So the new me, who had obviously become very intelligent, did a very stupid thing.

I got home on a Thursday night, looked in the fridge on Friday morning and saw, to my horror, a whole bunch of food I no longer ate thanks to my new more sophisticated palette and greater understanding of nutrition. Without taking even a moment to stop and think (a good indicator my mind was not quite as advanced as I believed), I zipped off to a grocery store, bought several items of "good" food—food that cool college students concerned about health and nutrition eat—brought it home, labeled each item with my initials (something responsible roommates do), and put it all away.

Never once did I wonder how this would look to my family.

Well, it didn't look good. No, not good at all.

"Who does she think she is, anyway?"

"What, isn't our food good enough for her now?"

"Smarty pants college girl and her stupid skim milk. Ha!"

I could handle the ridicule. In my opinion, it was more proof of my intellectual loftiness. But I learned a hard lesson when my dad pulled me aside and gently said, "You know, what you did really hurt your mom's feelings."

Who? Me? Wonderful, educated, intelligent, a-whole-term-under-my-belt me?

If only I'd thought first.

If only I'd said, "Hey, Mom, would you mind picking up a carton of skim milk and wheat bread next time you shop?"

If only I'd thought of others as more important than myself. Not only a big mistake, but a big insensitive mistake.

Putting ID labels on my food wasn't the only stupid thing I did when I came home. I pulled a few more boneheaded stunts.

With those in mind, here's a list of things to avoid doing when you come home from college (including some things I did myself). Things like …

… saying, "Hey, Mom, great to be home! Where d'ya want my laundry?"

… declaring that after a rough academic experience, you need a few solid weeks of vacation.

… refusing to help with dishes, walk the dog, rake leaves, shovel snow—after all, you're on vacation.

… commenting on your mom's outdated wardrobe.

… commenting on your dad's taste in lame and mindless television shows.

… making it clear to your younger siblings you can't be bothered with their silly stories and mindless drivel, and, no, you don't want to play any more video games.

… leaving toothpaste goo in the bathroom sink as if the custodian will clean up.

… staying up all night and sleeping all day long.

… staying out all night without letting anyone knowing where you're at or when you might be expected to walk in the door.

… calling your long-distance college friends during peak hours for lengthy meaning-of-life discussions.

… assuming your great intelligence translates into "No Rules."

I share these things with you for two reasons: One, so you can laugh at my mistakes. And two, so you don't do them because they're guaranteed to drive your family bananas while they secretly wish you would go away again. Soon.

But if you want those visits home to go smoothly, try these things instead:

• Tell everyone how glad you are to be home and how much you missed them. (Hugs are nice, too.)

• Sit down with your folks and discuss each other's expectations while you're home. What do they want? What do you want? How can everyone reach those expectations happily?

• Spend time—chunks, not just minutes—with younger siblings. You've missed a lot of their lives, so take advantage of this chance to catch up.

• Talk about things your parents and sibs want to talk about—not just things that you want to talk about.

• Offer to help. Are there dirty dishes in the sink? Clean 'em up. Clothes in the hamper? Wash 'em. A lawn to be mowed? Go for it! Parents love it when you offer to help with everyday tasks.

Hey, after sitting through several hours of college lectures, you're bound to be at least a little smarter than you were before. But, if your attitude is like Christ's (see Philippians 2:3-5), you know not to view yourself as more important or better than the rest of your family.

Remember that, then enjoy your time back home.

And while you're at it, leave those ID labels in the drawer. I sure wish I had.

Copyright © 2008 by the author or Christianity Today International/Campus Life magazine.
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