A recent Saturday Night Live video, “Back Home Ballers,” about a group of girls going home for Thanksgiving, made the rounds last week on Facebook and Twitter. My niece, who is also my Facebook friend, posted it and I laughed out loud. (Apparently, my college daughter “tweeted” it, also, but we’re not friend-tweeters, or whatever the social media term is, so I missed her post.) I think I laughed so hard just to keep from crying, because those girls were talking about ME! I’ll break it down for you, in case you missed it.
The clip begins with a group of inappropriately-dressed girls driving up to their parents’ house, and rapping, “Your girls are back. We’re home for Thanksgiving, y’all, and our parents are real glad to see us, so they’re going to treat us like queens.” Next, one of the girls hands her bag to the “valet,” which is really her daddy, then she notices an over-stuffed fridge and exults that her mom went to Costco. Another girl states she’s going to “tear it up, get a plate real dirty and not clean it up,” followed by her desire to do an entire load of laundry “for just one sock.” They all join in to sing the chorus: “I’m a back home baller; if I want something I just holler. I do what I want and I get what I want cause my parents miss their daughter.” And, finally, “They wait on me like I’m sickly, that’s the life of a back home baller.”
Funny, yet sad and pathetic. It’s me they’re talking about/making fun of. It’s true. I booked my daughter’s flight home months ago, and, when the afternoon of her arrival is finally here, I repeatedly check the flight status. I’m waiting in the cell lot when she texts, “Here! Going to get bags.” Then, I drive around and around until I see her standing outside the terminal. I jump out and lift her bag into the back and race home as fast as possible, so that she can have her favorite meal, which I’ve spent all day preparing, starting with a crock pot full of queso. Then, she falls asleep on the couch and my husband and I tiptoe around her, and retreat to our bedroom, even though there’s no high-def in there. The next day, I’m up early, making pigs in a blanket, Kerbey Lane pancakes and reading the paper, waiting to serve breakfast. At noon, I give up and, having missed my usual exercise class, I decide to go on a walk. After a couple of blocks, I return home and open the door to find that she’s still asleep. Ok, time to get on with my day. The minute I jump in the shower, the water pressure decreases and the water turns lukewarm. She’s up!
The video continues to point out truths and there’s a bit about how the returning college student wants queso and chips more than drugs. Uh-oh. And how the neighbors swarm around her like paparazzi when she ventures outside. Also true. Finally, we’re nearing the end when a new character pops up to state that her mom puts out “so many bowls” for her; chips, mints and seashell bowls, potpourri, nuts and M&M’s. “She puts out these bowls for me and any bowl I like I get for free.” Hmmm. I put fall fruit in a bowl on the dining room table and a bowl of red and green Hershey’s kisses on the console in the den. And, sadly, I recently placed a bowl of sea shells from our last vacation on my daughter’s dresser. Who writes for SNL and when were they in my house?
Finally, the skit draws to a close with the girls blowing kisses to their mothers and saying, “See you in a month for Christmas. We’re doing this ALL again.” Oh no; no we’re not. I have seen the error of my ways and it stops here. There will be no queso and no bowls at Christmastime. Join me, fellow moms of collegians. Let’s stop the insanity.
Here’s the link, if you dare: