Tuesday, March 16, 2004
My evil plot to make the son's life miserable during spring break was mildly foiled by the dentist who took pity and administered anesthesia while pulling out all four wisdom teeth. Fortunately there are other methods to ensure his suffering. I find myself saying things like, "Gee, I wonder what your friends are doing in Acapulco right now?" or "Think how nice that white t-shirt would have looked against a suntan." He swears his college grades are up again but until I see his final report card, I'm not letting up i.e. I've been looking online at other possible elective surgeries I could possibly inflict upon him. My girlfriends are planning a special luncheon for me in which I will be honored with a Most Creative and Effective Punishment Award. Only a mom would understand...
Speaking of torture, the daughter is suffering the last two excruciating weeks before hearing back from the colleges she has applied to. Unfortunately, all of her hard work, SAT scores and GPA are dwarfed by today's odds. If you look at the number of applicants (on average 20,000 applicants for every 1000 available freshman slots), the chances of being accepted have become truly lotteryesque. Plus, when and if you do get accepted, what then? According to the NY Times, the percentage of all college graduates 25 and older who hold jobs fell from just over 78 percent in 2000 to just under 76 percent in 2003 -- the lowest figure in 25 years. In This Recovery, a College Education Backfires. In other words, there are no guarantees at the end of the tuition-sucking rainbow.
But some college experiences promise to endure no matter what the economy and circumstances. Like laundry. Yesterday, the Clorox bottle I keep in the cabinet of the laundry room ran away at the sight of the son's college-returned dirty white wash. "Gross! I'm not touching that stuff. Even I can't get those socks clean." The washing machine allied with the Clorox bottle by stating that it refused to be contaminated by such vileness. Wearing a rubber glove, I pulled one sock out and performed an experiment to see if you really can get a dirt-caked, sweat-hardened sock to stand up. Sure enough -- sock sculpture. So I took the duffle bag, turned it upside down over a garbage bag, and headed to Marshall's. Case closed.
Speaking of torture, the daughter is suffering the last two excruciating weeks before hearing back from the colleges she has applied to. Unfortunately, all of her hard work, SAT scores and GPA are dwarfed by today's odds. If you look at the number of applicants (on average 20,000 applicants for every 1000 available freshman slots), the chances of being accepted have become truly lotteryesque. Plus, when and if you do get accepted, what then? According to the NY Times, the percentage of all college graduates 25 and older who hold jobs fell from just over 78 percent in 2000 to just under 76 percent in 2003 -- the lowest figure in 25 years. In This Recovery, a College Education Backfires. In other words, there are no guarantees at the end of the tuition-sucking rainbow.
But some college experiences promise to endure no matter what the economy and circumstances. Like laundry. Yesterday, the Clorox bottle I keep in the cabinet of the laundry room ran away at the sight of the son's college-returned dirty white wash. "Gross! I'm not touching that stuff. Even I can't get those socks clean." The washing machine allied with the Clorox bottle by stating that it refused to be contaminated by such vileness. Wearing a rubber glove, I pulled one sock out and performed an experiment to see if you really can get a dirt-caked, sweat-hardened sock to stand up. Sure enough -- sock sculpture. So I took the duffle bag, turned it upside down over a garbage bag, and headed to Marshall's. Case closed.
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