I Paid $1500 And All I Have To Show For It Is This Post

When I decided to have a children, I wanted a Norman Rockwell painting. Now I'd settle for paint-by-numbers. But in my own defense, it's hard to raise kids with the ambition and drive to succeed in life. I recently bought a toy that included a diagram of how to open the package but when my kids were born I got no instructions on how to mold the blobs of clay into works of art. Even Play Doh comes with warnings on the label.

No wonder college sounds like drudgery to them. In their defense, by the time they get out of high school they are so tired of school that it's no wonder they'd rather play D&D and poker all night, smoke cigarettes until the smoke comes out of every bodily orifice, sleep all day, and watch every episode of Lost 250 times in a row, because it's more fun than working or going to college. Besides, there are no jobs, so when I tell him to go find one - fat chance that he can.

Two out of my three sons were able to overcome these vexing temptations. What's disturbing to me is that this third son of mine isn't motivated to do anything other than hang out with his friends. He and his friends may be sloths but they're not totally devoid of intellect. They all sound fairly bright when they talk to me about physics and astronomy while I sit there, with a glazed look and perfunctory grin, nodding my head every once in a while, trying to look intelligent.

I admit his failure in his first semester of college was not all his fault since he got sick unexpectedly. Half way through his first semester of calculus, medical ethics, English, and the required frosh orientation class, he had to go to the hospital. He was in the intensive care unit, and when he got out he was supposed to make arrangements with his professors to make up work - which he didn't. They don't let mommy do it for you when you're in college, even if mommy is the one paying the bill. But what about the fact that he enrolled in classes that were way too hard? I warned him to scale it down, but he insisted it was his decision. My job is to stand there with checkbook in hand, pouting, waiting impatiently to sign my name after he's made his choices.

Finally, I had to get his take on the situation so I asked him why he failed his classes. He said, "Because I'm stupid. It's not my fault. It's your bad genes, not mine." (The smart-ass gene is obviously hereditary.) I said, "Maybe it was because you were out with your friends and slept through two calculus tests, do ya think?"

As of this writing, I am fifteen hundred dollars poorer and NOW he wants to sign up for summer semester. NOW he wants to take drama. Drama class?Does this look like the face of a drama queen? I'm the one who is suffering from post dramatic stress disorder. Or, let's get down to the twenty thousand dollar question...Does this look like the face of a future college graduate?
Say yes, and you'll be my friend forever.