Apparently, one of my daughter's oldest friends, also a high school senior, was robbed!
I've known this lovely young lady since ... well, since she was born. Today, by all accounts, she is a proficient — and prolific — Twitter poster. (She also wears a penguin costume when she goes on vacation. Really. But, that's another story for another time.) Over Christmas break, she tweeted this:
"If I had a dollar for everyone who asks me where I'm going to college, I'd have enough money to go to college."
We know how she feels.
At our annual tree-trimming party last week, we were concerned that our hyperactive new puppy would be underfoot (or up a tree). My daughter immediately stepped in and offered to take him for long walks, to the dog park, and to visit her grandmother (my daughter's, not the dog's). I was impressed. This seemed like a very mature and selfless thing to do.
Then I realized that she saw it as a win-win.
The dog would be contained (and entertained). In fact, she suggested bringing him back to the house for a few minutes every hour so people could meet him. We may have nicknamed him "Spawn of Satan" (we're on rug repair number two right now), but he's also absolutely adorable and affectionate. But, being out of the house would be better all around.
Meanwhile, my daughter would have a perfect excuse to dodge what has become a positive barrage of questions about the C-word.
No one's fault, really. She's eighteen; she's a high school senior. It's the end of December. The oh-so-logical query on every grownup's lips is ...
"Where are you going to college?"
There are variations, naturally. "Do you know where you're going?" is a common, casual version.
"What are you doing next year?" is more politically-correct; after all, not every kid goes to a traditional four-year school.
Then, there are the more enlightened adults who preface their interrogation with an apology ... "I'm sure you're tired of hearing this ..." or "You probably don't want to talk about this ..." or even "Sorry, can I ask ...?"
And, they proceed anyway.
So, dog-sitting was a smart dodge on my daughter's part.
I, meanwhile, am happy to brag about her accomplishments. She's been accepted at three of the four schools to which she's applied — and awarded generous merit scholarships. ("See?" I tell her, smugly, "All that hard work paid off!" Cue: eye roll.) 'Not sure what's holding up the final one; oddly enough, it was the least competitive of the bunch. Regardless, she's narrowed it to two, and week after next, we'll be visiting one of them to try and get closer to a decision.
She's quick to remind me that she has until May to make up her mind. And, despite my own impatience, we are heading into 2016 with exciting options. Graduation, summer vacation and first semester freshman year will be here before we know it. While I look forward to knowing what she decides, I don't want to rush any of it.
Besides, I can probably think of other things to do while I wait.
Like training the new puppy.
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