Last Thursday and Friday, I spent some time with the parents. Delightful time, really. Good meals. Good fun. Good movie. (We saw Up. And if you see it and don't enjoy it, please pay attention to what I'm about to say to you: you have no heart.)
Anyway, we discussed my master's program at least twice. One of the conversations was rather short, i.e. my dad asking "What happens when you're done?" and me shrugging rather noncommittally. I've decided I don't have to make any decisions in that regard just yet. I aim to make it at least halfway through this coming fall semester before I even acknowledge a future beyond my master's degree.
The other discussion was more a reminder. My mom, it seems, felt a hint of disappointment when I didn't walk for my undergraduate degree. (But seriously: December. 600-ish people. Or more. I hadn't the patience. Besides, they mail you the diploma, anyway. My mom would shudder if I told her I never framed mine, and I'm relatively certain it's occupying a very minute amount of space in one of my desk drawers.) Anyway, when I was accepted to my program, I promised her (I italicize, because I felt compelled to promise rather vehemently) that I would allow her the delight of seeing me walk then.
So she reminded me that, come next spring, I would be walking for her. And my dad said they'd be sure to cry.
I replied: "Sure. Mom will cry because she's proud. You'll turn to whoever you're sitting next to and cry that you wished I'd gotten an MBA instead of an M.A. in English."
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I don't know what it is about parents and seeing their kids walk at graduation, but my mom was adamant that I walk. She was willing to pay for my cap and gown.
Maybe we'll understand when we're parents. And we'll laugh about it. :)
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