Whilst cleaning up my darling 20 year-old college junior's post-Christmas visit mess after driving him to the airport at 3:30 a.m., I discovered amongst the refuse, an envelope bearing the seal of his illustrious institution of higher learning. The envelope's sacred seal was opened, so I took a little peak inside, wheretowhich I found the following inscription:
"Hail and greetings, to all ye noble lads and lasses who are so-called college juniors!
Ye have the noble opportunity to excel yourselves at a writing exercise of the noblest proportions, towhichwherefore ye must write a most noble exhortation consisting of NO MORE THAN ONE STINKIN' PAGE (!!!) typed, single-spaced, nay even double-spaced, extolling the virtues of your most pure, most chaste, most lovely MOTHER(!!!)
Hark, all ye who read these enscriptions: The most noblest scholarship committe will chewz the one exhortation that extolls the sacred virtures of motherhood, nay, that merely mentions how your mother is "SPECIAL" (!!!) and will present the author with a monetary amount in the princely sum of $2500. (That's TWENTY-FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR ONE STINKIN' ONE PAGE MAXIMUM DOUBLE-SPACED TYPED STINKIN' ESSAY ABOUT HOW SPECIAL I AM TO MY FIRST BORN SON!!! BUT DOES HE DO IT? NO! HE LEAVES THE APPLICATION FORM AND DIRECTIONS IN A PILE OF DISCARDED MAIL IN HIS ROOM ALONG WITH HIS DIRTY SOCKS IN THE CORNER LEFT BEHIND FOR HIS MOST UN-SPECIAL MOM TO WASH AND DRY AND HAVE READY FOR HIM SHOULD HE EVEN HAVE A ROOM TO SLEEP IN WHEN HE COMES HOME AGAIN.)"
But I digress...
As I was saying, I was cleaning my son's mess and I found the above mentioned scholarship application. I immediately phoned him and we had the following conversation:
Me: "Do you think I'm special?"
Son: "Oh...uh...(heavy sigh)...yes, Mom."
Me: "Are you planning on writing this essay?"
Son: "Uh...oh, yeah! I was planning on doing it."
Me: "When? The due date is January 30th."
Son: (heavy sigh) "Well...you know...I'm really busy right now with organizing the paper clips on my desk and figuring out which chairs in the library offer the best napping spots and beating my personal best on Halo 3, so I'll get to it later."
Me: "When?"
Son: (heavy sigh) "Uh, well, I gotta go now..."
Me: "Would you like me to mail you the application?"
Son: "Uh, sure, yeah, okay I guess."
Now, I'm no master of judging vocal clues, but I'm thinking it was never very high on his priority list of things to do.
Now aren't I SPECIAL?
2 comments:
Where is he going, again, that those who spell words like "chewz" offer $2500 for writing a one-page essay about his obviously SPECIAL mother?
He's attending a poverty-stricken (Franciscan) school (University) of Dean Martin's hometown (Steubenville).
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