Illustration: Brett Ryder
Dear Lisa,
Our son graduated from college with a degree in philosophy and moved back into our house last June. At first we thought he deserved a break before starting his job hunt. But it’s been months of him sleeping until noon (sometimes with different women), smoking (mostly pot), blasting his music, leaving dirty clothes and half-eaten bowls of cereal on the floor and borrowing the car for hours. We can’t take much more.
—Jennifer, Florida
You and your husband sound like lovely people. My own loveliness stops the minute I sink my foot into a bowl of Cap’n Crunch. In other words: Shove that music-blasting, late-sleeping, womanizing, work-averse, stoned-off-his-butt baby bird right out of the nest!
Children need to become independent. Your son majored in philosophy, so let’s inspire him with the words of Descartes’s beleaguered parents: “You work, therefore you eat.”
Give him three months to find a job. He can talk to headhunters, answer want ads, sign up with a temp agency, fill out applications—even spend some time trying to ascertain whether people want fries with their burger. Then he needs to find roommates and a cheap apartment. Beyond having the satisfaction of earning a living, he’ll learn how to build an IKEA bookcase.
Now, I’m not heartless—the deadline can be extended as long as he’s actively job hunting. But during the hunt, some new rules are in order. Your son must clean up after himself, do his laundry and make dinner for the family once a week. If he borrows the car, he should help run errands. He needs to keep sane-ish hours, use headphones, quit smoking at home and conduct his sleepovers discreetly. Or consider another strategy: A few displays of public affection between you and your husband—call it Naked Tuesdays—could get your son out fast. Just brace for the shrink bills!
Dear Lisa,
We often invite our friends, call them Annie and Jim, to our dinner parties. But for the past year or so, when Jim drinks, he quickly goes from quiet and charming to loud and nasty. He’s been obnoxious to my husband and snarky to our other guests. He announced that my pork tenderloin was dry and accused our dog of deliberately tripping him. Is it possible to invite Annie sans Jim?
—Regina, Hawaii
The best place to invite Annie is to an Al-Anon meeting. If your pork tenderloin is moist, your dog is innocent and you’ve been aware of Jim’s mean drunk behavior for more than a year, this kind of alcohol-induced personality change suggests a serious problem. This isn’t about a stubborn refusal to behave at a party; this is about being gripped by addiction.
Alcoholism is not a character flaw—it’s a disease that requires treatment. Jim needs to know that it would be a tragedy if he were to give up on himself, especially when help is available and Annie needs to know there’s help for her, too. You and your husband should express your concern, but ultimately it’s Jim who has to decide when it’s time to sober up. All you can do is offer assistance in finding a therapist who specializes in addiction counseling or a treatment program. And stop inviting them to parties where Jim makes everybody miserable.
Dear Lisa,
Why do I always have to be the one to tell friends when they’ve got food stuck in their teeth? Is it okay to just ignore it?
—Elka, Delaware
What I am about to say, I say in the most loving way possible: Grow up! As a woman who recently went five straight hours with what appeared to be an entire leg of lamb wedged in her gum, I’m putting everyone who remained silent in my time of need on notice— I will find you and I will send Liam Neeson to make you watch Taken 3. The rule is simple: If you see something, say something!
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Lisa Kogan is O’s writer at large and the author of Someone Will Be with You Shortly: Notes from a Perfectly Imperfect Life. To ask Lisa a question, email asklisa@hearst.com.
Our son graduated from college with a degree in philosophy and moved back into our house last June. At first we thought he deserved a break before starting his job hunt. But it’s been months of him sleeping until noon (sometimes with different women), smoking (mostly pot), blasting his music, leaving dirty clothes and half-eaten bowls of cereal on the floor and borrowing the car for hours. We can’t take much more.
—Jennifer, Florida
You and your husband sound like lovely people. My own loveliness stops the minute I sink my foot into a bowl of Cap’n Crunch. In other words: Shove that music-blasting, late-sleeping, womanizing, work-averse, stoned-off-his-butt baby bird right out of the nest!
Children need to become independent. Your son majored in philosophy, so let’s inspire him with the words of Descartes’s beleaguered parents: “You work, therefore you eat.”
Give him three months to find a job. He can talk to headhunters, answer want ads, sign up with a temp agency, fill out applications—even spend some time trying to ascertain whether people want fries with their burger. Then he needs to find roommates and a cheap apartment. Beyond having the satisfaction of earning a living, he’ll learn how to build an IKEA bookcase.
Now, I’m not heartless—the deadline can be extended as long as he’s actively job hunting. But during the hunt, some new rules are in order. Your son must clean up after himself, do his laundry and make dinner for the family once a week. If he borrows the car, he should help run errands. He needs to keep sane-ish hours, use headphones, quit smoking at home and conduct his sleepovers discreetly. Or consider another strategy: A few displays of public affection between you and your husband—call it Naked Tuesdays—could get your son out fast. Just brace for the shrink bills!
Dear Lisa,
We often invite our friends, call them Annie and Jim, to our dinner parties. But for the past year or so, when Jim drinks, he quickly goes from quiet and charming to loud and nasty. He’s been obnoxious to my husband and snarky to our other guests. He announced that my pork tenderloin was dry and accused our dog of deliberately tripping him. Is it possible to invite Annie sans Jim?
—Regina, Hawaii
The best place to invite Annie is to an Al-Anon meeting. If your pork tenderloin is moist, your dog is innocent and you’ve been aware of Jim’s mean drunk behavior for more than a year, this kind of alcohol-induced personality change suggests a serious problem. This isn’t about a stubborn refusal to behave at a party; this is about being gripped by addiction.
Alcoholism is not a character flaw—it’s a disease that requires treatment. Jim needs to know that it would be a tragedy if he were to give up on himself, especially when help is available and Annie needs to know there’s help for her, too. You and your husband should express your concern, but ultimately it’s Jim who has to decide when it’s time to sober up. All you can do is offer assistance in finding a therapist who specializes in addiction counseling or a treatment program. And stop inviting them to parties where Jim makes everybody miserable.
Dear Lisa,
Why do I always have to be the one to tell friends when they’ve got food stuck in their teeth? Is it okay to just ignore it?
—Elka, Delaware
What I am about to say, I say in the most loving way possible: Grow up! As a woman who recently went five straight hours with what appeared to be an entire leg of lamb wedged in her gum, I’m putting everyone who remained silent in my time of need on notice— I will find you and I will send Liam Neeson to make you watch Taken 3. The rule is simple: If you see something, say something!
Want more stories like this delivered to your inbox? Sign up for the Oprah.com Spirit Newsletter!
Lisa Kogan is O’s writer at large and the author of Someone Will Be with You Shortly: Notes from a Perfectly Imperfect Life. To ask Lisa a question, email asklisa@hearst.com.
From the January 2017 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine
