I knew it wouldn’t last.
It was nice to think that it might, but alas some things are just not meant to be.
Remember that suddenly diligent senior that moved in here recently? Well, he left and my son came back. Not sure where he’s been, but he doesn’t seem to have learned anything on his journey. He has a mountain of papers to fill out and return to GU to get his financial aid award in place. Needs to be done this week.
He has a way of shirking certain responsibilities that is driving me crazy (crazier, actually,) especially when those responsibilities involve tasks that require him to use his brain for anything other than his art, his music or his girlfriend–subject for a future rant-petite. So, this morning as he’s straigtening his hair–subject for a future rant-grande–I remind him about the forms by telling him, “When you get home this afternoon, you will complete your college forms before you fix a Jethro-snack, talk or in any other way communicate with girlfriend, or hide in your hidey hole room.” He says “Oh yeah, I was going to ask you about this afternoon. Lydia (not the girlfriend, the girlfriend’s girlfriend) is in a play at her school and it starts at like six and I was wondering if it would be ok with you if I went.”
And I said, “When you get home this afternoon, you will complete your college forms before you fix a Jethro-snack, talk or in any other way communicate with girlfriend, or hide in your hidey hole room.”
No wonder I think I’m crazy. I keep saying things over and over and over and the same thing happens, which is not much. Insanity is produced by the process of doing the same thing over and over and over and expecting a different result. So I get his dad involved and tell him to please communicate with this alien and tell him to get his crap done because I’ve already invested several hours into it and all he needs to do is read and sign.
I am pretty (definitely) sure that 30 years ago when I was doing the go-to-college dance that I also did the paperwork. With a typewriter. And white-out. And erasable ink. And duplicate copies of forms. Yeah, I know, the times they have indeed changed and everything is more complicated now, blah blah blah. And he is finishing that darned senior project next week.
But, for heaven’s sake, what will he do come August when he moves on campus and has to take on RESPONSIBILITIES?
He’ll fall down a few times, learn some lessons and come away changed.
Like the rest of us.