Pardon me for boasting a little bit here, but my four-year-old son is clearly ready for college. He has proven to his mother and me that he does not need the basic foundations of kindergarten, the monotony of grade school or the drama of high school. I think my pre-k son is just about ready to fit in with the college crowd and take his place among the slackers, the burn-outs and the party animals who will inevitably become the leaders of tomorrow. Here’s why:

He’s Obsessed With Partying

Whether we’re watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse or Handy Manny about every third episode revolves around going to a party, finding something for a party, getting ready for a party or preventing something bad from happening at a party.  Without the ever-present danger of a party being threatened there would be no daytime television for children.

Two fingers of children's Claritin.

My son’s drink of choice.

Since my son has a lot of friends there is also no shortage of real birthday parties to attend every month.  My weekends have become an endless blur of bouncy playgrounds, amusement arcades, sports clubs, cold soggy pizza and dry birthday cake.  I feel like a Vegas limo driver most of the time, just standing around waiting for my young charge to demand that I take him to the next debaucherous event on his calendar.

At some point kids got smart with the parties and tricked us adults into having one party at home and another one at school.  I suspect the rapid increase in parties over the years can also be blamed on teachers who are desperate for activities and free carbohydrates. In addition to the multitude of birthday parties there are parties for just about anything you can think of.

Lincoln’s Birthday? Let’s have a party! We’ll make top hats and glue on red construction paper dots!  Groundhog day? Let’s have a party! Everyone bring in their favorite groundhog themed recipe! Arbor Day? Let’s have a party!  We’ll plant pretzel stick trees in cupcakes!  You can bring in 40 cupcakes tomorrow, right?

These kids make Lindsay Lohan look like a homebody.

He Doesn’t Respect Authority

I remember turning 19 years old, being perfect and knowing everything. My son is almost five and already has a self-righteousness about him that makes Donald Trump look like Woody Allen. My son spends a good deal of his time marching around the house dictating what mommy and daddy should do. Mommy and daddy spend a good deal of time thinking about military academies.

If I tell him he can have a cookie after dinner he’ll tell me “No!” and then proceed to argue with me for 20 minutes about why he shouldn’t get a cookie. When I finally agree that he’s right he’ll throw a full-fledged tantrum and demand to know why I’m such a bully. So far he hasn’t tried to organize his 10-month-old sister into a protest march in the living room, but that’s only because she can’t actually walk yet.

My Son Is All About the Babes

While some of his friends are starting to worry about catching cooties from the fairer sex my son has managed to create quite a few flirty friendships with the girls in his class.  He’s claimed two different classmates as his “girlfriends” and agreed to no less than three different future marriages. We don’t even live in Utah!  My son’s a player before he can spell the word.

He Likes To Drink From A Shot Glass

My four-year-old has some seasonal allergies and takes a little dose of liquid Claritin every day. He gets such a kick out of downing a shot of Claritin that he now regularly asks for drinks in his “little cup.” As a good bartender I’m usually obliged to pour him two fingers of milk or water and let him down it in one shot. Most kids learn how to drink out of shot glass when they get to college.  Mine is 16 years ahead of the game. .

He Likes To Streak

After knocking back a belt of Claritin what better way to celebrate your youth than ripping off all your clothes and running through the house naked? My son does this regularly as I get the bath ready for him each evening. He usually accompanies his streaking with screams of joy as he runs up and down the hallway, giving our home the feel of a frat house with a fraternity of one.


Fortunately, I don’t think my little guy will be packing up and moving out of this dorm room quite yet. To get into college you usually need to get a pretty solid SAT score, have earned a high school diploma and at least be able to write your own name with a crayon (assuming he’s not attending on an athletics scholarship).

And, for what it’s worth, he’s a lousy tipper.