WARNING: Horn-Tooting to follow.
The Pony had his conference tournament today for Academic Team. I am proud to report that our little school took 2nd Place, out of 10 schools, which bodes well for our high school student enrollment of 280, versus the three other final four schools they played bursting at the seams with 1186, 918, and 555 pupils. We ARE good school. We're good enough, we're smart enough, and doggone it, we won 2nd place in the conference tournament! One of our seniors earned a 3rd Place individual medal. HooRah for Backroads!
In other bragging rights information being foisted upon you today, Genius texted me yesterday afternoon to reveal that he had been offered a Resident Assistant position for next fall. He was wavering between the perks and the responsibility. One of the residence halls is shutting down, and the university is buying apartment complexes in which to house the overflow, a condition which has changed since Genius applied and interviewed for the RA position. He wanted me to call, and we discussed the pros and cons. In the end, I told him he's an adult now, and that adults sometimes have to make hard decisions. He had 45 minutes left before his decision was due.
Genius took it. That means free room and board for the next year, which will save us a pretty penny. Several. With his academic scholarships, he's a bargain student.
Hick and I don't really have anything to toot about, except that we only had one fight today. Hick found five eggs. I did the shopping alone. My mom has enough slaw to get her through Sunday's predicted snow storm.
Life rolls on.
MY pride and joy refused to even apply to be a RA until his senior year. We prodded. We begged. We whined.
ReplyDelete"Why not?" we asked.
"If I'm an RA, I have to wear a shirt." He finally managed to squash down his revulsion over wearing shirts, and was a great RA, due to his own antics in the previous three years.
Yeah, they make us proud at every turn...
Oh my, I know you are so proud of those boys. Let me ask, was the argument about Hick telling you he had a half dozen eggs and brought in only five?
ReplyDeleteIf those pretty pennies were his the decision may have been made sooner.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on both of your sons accomplishments! Whoo-hooo. I love that you allowed your son to make his own decision... what a wonderful thing you did for him. And as I always say when I comment, you're so funny (I'm talking about the accomplishments of you and Hick and your mother!) Ha.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteHee hee! They're like the sons of Jack Sprat, brothers with other mothers. Your son could wear no shirt, and mine could not take his off. Genius was never one for going without a shirt, even in the dog days of Missouri summers. Only in the pool. I don't get it. It's not like he had moobs, or bacne.
******
Linda,
The argument was, of course, Hick's fault. It was like a loop of Who's On First? Hick said a girl on the academic team saved them from elimination by playing extremely well in the second (of five) games, and that she played the whole game (rather than her usual one quarter) in the championship game. I asked if she played that well for the final game, and Hick kept telling me that she played the whole game. And that she was fantastic in the second game. No manner of wording my inquiry could stray him from this record-scratch on his brain.
Finally, Hick declared that I was always making fun of him, and threw up his arms DRAMATICALLY, and went to the auction, where he bought a camera bag filled with a camera and various accessories. Touche. A picture is worth a thousand words.
******
joeh,
I actually thought Genius was wavering in his pursuit of an RA-ship. My conversation mostly consisted of telling him that if he was questioning the acceptance, maybe this wasn't the right time. That nobody would hold it against him, and that by knowing early on, the committee might consider him if he applied in future years. I likened it to a groom getting cold feet. Best not to make a decision that he'd regret.
That might just have pushed him over the edge into acceptance. He IS his father's son.
*****
Lynn,
Thanks! I'm sure you agree that my accomplishment of solitary shopping was much more noteworthy than collecting eggs from under chicken butts, or opening the refrigerator to check the level of the slaw container.
I remember the RA in my dorm at UCLA. He was constantly knocking on our door and asking if we had any weed.
ReplyDeleteStephen,
ReplyDeleteIf Genius desires weed, he could hopefully rig up some hydroponic, non-heat-emitting, grow-light production center under his bed, and make it odorless weed, and have a go-between sell it on consignment at a local farmer's market as a new herb.
He has already scoffed at the kid on his floor who was caught the first week with Mason jars full of weed. I would like to think that the kid transferred to Colorado, but if I remember correctly, he barely got a slap on the wrist.
I sure hope none of those worldly dorm-mates ask Genius to drive them to Benny's for a Great Bam breakfast...