The Boy graduates today. At 3 p.m. the ceremony starts, and within an hour or so he’ll be an Uhfishal Kolidge Gradchewuht.
Of course, things always have to go wrong; for him it was a dire need for new contacts right now because he ran out and has been wearing the same pair for Too Long, and the left one finally punked out. No problem! The optometrist at WalMart takes walk-ins; all I‘d have to do is pay and then get a good receipt and submit it to the insurance company.
And wouldn’t you know, Thursday is the one day of the week that they’re closed.
So we headed across the street; Sam’s Club has an optometrist, I think. However, it was 9:50 and they don’t let Real People in before 10 a.m. Until then. Only Business People are admitted. And as far as they’re concerned, I’m just a regular Real People.
While we waited, the Boy got on the phone (yay for keeping a copy of the phone book in the car) and found someone who not only takes our insurance, but had an available appointment at 10 a.m. Sure, by then it was 9:55 and we were a good 7 minutes away, but we took it.
I hit every freaking red light between Sam’s Club and this guy’s office.
Still…45 minutes later the Boy had new contacts. He will not be forced to endure his graduation ceremony wearing glasses that hurt his head. Mom and Dad will be able to take pictures that show his sparkly gray eyes. And hair that hasn’t been cut in about a year…
Hey, he’s graduating. I don’t care how long his hair is. I’m just glad we’re here to see it, and not stuck in Ohio, where there was always the chance that the Spouse Thingy couldn’t get leave to be here. Whether kids realize it or not, graduation ceremonies are more for the parents; the after-party is for them. We get to sit there and have our “Hell yeah, that’s my kid!” moment, when we try not to think about the copious amounts of alcohol that will surely be flowing afterwards.
I don’t expect the Boy to come home at all tonight. He and his friends have displayed some signs of intelligence; if there’s drinking, they either stay where they’re at, or the two or three people who don’t drink drive them home. I suspect tonight the party will become a sleep-over.
A co-ed sleep-over.
I try to not let my brain go there.
But yeah. He’s graduating!
No more tuition!
Well, no more unless he decides to pursue a Master’s…