MILF’s Weekend!

It’s a typical Duke scene: A 50-something in a black puffer with Burberry-checked cuffs makes her way down the Bryan Center plaza, acquainting the public with her recent rhytidectomy by firmly setting her Coach sunglasses above her face rather than on it. She briskly walks a few paces ahead of her daughter, partly because her sororsti-tote bag of a bygone age is decidedly smaller than the 40-pound fortnighter her daughter’s sorority has deemed it acceptably feminine to shoulder, and partly because she’s determined to prove that those quinquagenarian legs have “still got it.”

Seeing the clowder of former 8s all over campus this weekend made me consider what were in my mind the only two possible explanations: either the umpteenth degree of everyone’s “Bigs” had returned to shower their great-great-great-(etc.) grand littles with “girls’ night in” packages, or a murder of RLS afflicted crows had flown in and trampled the faces of the Key Three.

And then it dawned on me: Parents’ Weekend! It’s that wonderful weekend of the year where you get to pretend for a moment that you don’t drink, smoke, cheat, have sex, skip class, buy drugs, do drugs, sell drugs, etc., yet it’s a little bit stressful because you actually have to remember what classes you’re taking when you’re asked. You also get to see where your friends really came from—in more senses than one—whether their parents are chill bros and, most importantly, whose mom is hot. And while Parents’ Weekend has its benefits, like being taken out to dinner at non-food points locations and the decidedly meta experience of checking into Four Square on foursquare, wouldn’t it be better if instead of putting on airs for other people’s parents we just embraced the fact that we’re finally old enough to actually be friends with them?

I’m sure our parents were all pretty sweet in their day (I mean they had us, right?), and we all know they got just as messed up on weekends as we do and had just as many raucous, albeit pre-PowerPoint and thus undocumented, sexcapades. So now that we can relate to our parents on that more personal and just plain fun level of intimacy, we should transform Parents’ Weekend from the tamest weekend of the year to the sloppiest one!

And just think of the limitless potential for theme-parties: Freaky Friday, where you dress up as your mom or dad and they dress up as you (and you get to blow lines, as an added bonus, in honor of Lindsey Lohan’s character); Pat and Mat parties, instead of Frat parties, where your parents get decked out in the freshest frat-gear; perhaps best of all, we could host a “MILFs Drink Free” night at Shooters. Just as a note, I would never use such a lewd acronym in a respectable publication to describe someone’s parents if it actually abbreviated the profanity you think it does, but since it actually stands for “Mom I Love to Fratbang,” I thought it was fully appropriate.

So next year, let’s tell our parents to stop wasting their money buying our friends “brunches” at bourgie Durham locales and start bringing some fancy alcohol and a few lids of the headiest nugg when they come on down to the Dirty D. And for any parents out there in the audience (hi Gossip Mom and Gossip Dad!), Gossip Bro is also looking at you to make this happen. See you guys next year!

Gossip Bro cannot wait to see who’s clever enough to be Gossip Bro for Halloween.