Saturday, July 28, 2007

College THEA testing

Why do children insist on driving their parents into early senility by waiting until the last minute to tell us things that are needed to be done? When my teenage-type offspring was in grade school, he would always wait until the night before to tell me about the supplies he needed for a school project due the next day. He would wait until I dropped him off in front of the school to tell me his lunch account balance was zero; I had no checks and never carry cash.

There are too many times which I thought were in the past. Long forgotten. Times when I just wanted to smack some sense into him. If he is academically gifted why is it so difficult for him to prioritize and use his time wisely? What is it about the young mind that keeps them from speaking up in a timely manner? Argh! Well, all I can hope for is that he will be more responsible and proactive as an adult. I told my son today, you will get a swift kick in the pants by the school of hard knocks in life if you don't learn responsibility.

I dropped him off at college today to get his THEA testing. Of course he didn't tell me he needed a picture ID. I was so disgusted with his lack of responsibility and at his age! Thing is, he doesn't have a picture ID. He is taking his driver license test in the next couple weeks so I had no idea he needed this sooner or I would've taken him in for a state ID card. So he waited until last night to tell me that it was required or they might not allow him to test. Being the wonder-mom that I am and exasperated, with this teenage-type offspring, to the very core of my psyche; I was on a mission.

I was determined to go in there and tell the administrator what I thought was a well-rehearsed spiel about why my son does not have a picture ID. Could she please allow him to take the test as I've already paid for it and their rules are that there are no refunds for irresponsibility on the participant's part. Or something pretty darn close to that wording from what I later found out. I know my son and I know he will probably go in there and tell them he doesn't have an ID and wait for them to tell him to leave. Aha! I'm a mom on a mission, a bundle of ticked off nerves to no end. My hair is even frizzier from all the thinking about how to punish this offspring type for giving me the crazies like he does.

We get in the car and stop by McDonald's so the offspring type can have something in his stomach as this will be a long test...5 hours long. So I make him get off and buy his own breakfast. Yeah, I'm mean like that. It takes me 10 minutes to get to the college campus. Twice as long as it takes him to wolf down those nasty pancakes and sausage and large orange juice he had to have. Teenage types have the most wonderfully healthy diets.

All the while I'm thinking, they will take him if I have to bring a blood sample to prove that he is my offspring and that my driver license, his social security card and birth certificate should suffice. I'm prepared to do battle. We get there and there are all kinds of kids looking for their respective classrooms for the testing. A bunch of them looking cute and reminding me that I'm old and way past my prime. Oh well, you can't have everything. I have more money than they do and more insurance too.

Armed with my most friendliest of attitudes I tell the lady there what our dilemma is and she was nice enough to tell me it was fine since my son and I have the same last name but that I will need to get him a picture ID. I apologize for my son's faux pas and proceed to drop this teenage-type offspring at his classroom. He turns and tells me the calculator he brought doesn't have the square root button. I give him a dirty look and tell him to call me when he gets through testing. He can figure it out. When I was in college, yes, I still remember, we weren't allowed anything but paper and pencil for testing. Now, they cheat. How totally unfair is that?

Now, we're going to have to start on the scholarship applications. Why must I do everything for them? Motherhood--a never ending job no matter how old your children are. I tell you, they're gonna miss me when I'm gone.

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