Empty Nesters Fidget in the White House

This scene is taking place all over America:

“Any news from Chelsea?”

“No, we haven’t heard from her since she checked in to school.”

“Maybe we should call her.”

“We promised we wouldn’t do that. She wants to be treated like a normal student.”

“That’s easy for her to say. What about us? We’re her parents. We’re the ones who are suffering.”

“Maybe we could send her an e-mail through the Army Signal Corps. That isn’t really bothering her.”

“It’s a good idea. I’ll get the CIA on it right away. I wonder if she’s having trouble in chemistry?”

“Should we get her a tutor?”

“She would be angry if we got her a tutor. I think what she really needs is food. The Student Union chow is awful.”

“She said not to send her any food because the other kids would think she was putting on airs.”

“What I worry about are the boys at her school. They looked awfully scruffy in the catalog.”

“She promised us she wouldn’t go out with any scruffy boys.”

“The ones we think are scruffy are a lot scruffier than the ones she thinks are scruffy.”

“What worries me is that she forgot all about us.”

“I think that’s going too far. Most kids who are away at college forget their parents. Then, after they finish school, they come back because they can’t get a job.”

“I hope she got the pillow. She needs one with goose feathers in it.”

“I know the thing she needs the most is a MasterCard.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Most college students say if they had the choice of anything in the world it would be a credit card.”

“I didn’t have a credit card when I went to school.”

“That’s because you didn’t have parents who cared about you. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to call.”

“I’ll get on the other phone.”

“It says she’s talking to someone else, and we should leave our name and she’ll get back to us.”

“Don’t leave a message. She’ll think all we do is worry about her.”