Apparently, Val Is the Greater of Two Evils. Or the Lesser of Two Joys.

Our loving son Genius has been burning up the phone lines lately.

Okay. Not so much burning them up as contributing to a miniscule, virtually undetectable (how many tries does it take a teaching former valedictorian to spell 'undetectable' without consulting her BFF Google? FOUR!) temperature increase in the atmosphere due to the flurry of his fingers on a smartphone keyboard to send a six-word text every two weeks.

"Can you help move my stuff?" That was to Hick last week, so Genius can get some things hauled home before the week he has between wrapping up his sophomore year and RA duties, and leaving for his summer internship in Kansas.

"Did you deposit my money yet?" That was for me, because Genius can't calculate when the last Friday of the month falls, thus triggering his father's fat paycheck, and the distribution of wealth to himself, to the mortgage holder, the college savings account, the satellite dish company, two phone companies, the electric company, the insurance company, the trash-hauling company, the credit card company, and the savings sock buried in the back yard.

I was able to trick him, though, into further communication. Because I'm crafty like that. I'm a mom.

"You got a card from Garmin. Do you want me to open it?" Well. That resulted in an immediate text of YES, and a call on the house phone before my cell phone had even stopped vibrating from the text.

"Go ahead and open it.It might be about my internship."

"Oh, this is SO CUTE! It's a card, light blue in color, designed to look like a college exam book. It has 'A+' in red, like it's written on the exam. Inside is a handwritten note wishing you good luck on your finals, and looking forward to seeing you this summer. It's signed by 'Vikki' (not real name, some things must remain a tiny bit private). And inside is a gift card. It doesn't say how much. I don't recognize the business."

"I get personalized notes all the time from Vikki. She's my recruiter. Does that card have a website on it?"

"Yes. But it's too small for me to see with these terrible glasses that I paid a fortune for. PONY! Come up here and read the fine print on your brother's gift card!"

"Okay." Thump thump thump, the sound of The Pony galloping up the basement stairs to the living room. "Oh. It says www.BlahBlahBlah.com."

"Thanks. I'm done with you now."

"Okay." Thump thump thump.

"Did you hear him?"

"Yeah. I already looked it up. It's a shop in a mall in Kansas City. Does it have a number on the back?"

"Yes. But it has letters by it. Is that the one?"

"I don't know. It's a security code I need."

"Oh. Maybe that SC stands for security code."

"You're a genius. Read it to me. Hey! It's worth $25."

"That's kind of cool for them to send you stuff."

"Yes. They treat us right. Last time I got a $20 gift card for the movies."

"I remember that. I guess they'll take good care of you while you're there."

"I'll only have about a week at home before I leave for the summer."

"I know. Then I'll miss you all over again."

Let the record show that I'm pleased Genius will be working all summer for slightly more than last year's $20 per hour, along with the perk of free housing and assorted electronic swag.

It's refreshing to see today's youth so excited about GETTING AWAY FROM MY HOME and working 40 hours a week. Isn't it? I almost have myself convinced...