When my oldest son finished his junior year in high school,
he’d already fallen victim to high-pressure marketing campaigns perpetrated by
American universities – plus one from Sydney, Australia.
The more
considerate institutions of higher tuition even enclosed applications for
student loan sharks for his convenience.
Meanwhile, my son was so pacific, he had no clue what he wanted to
study. (His own mother, after all, had felt no pressure to make a hasty career
choice. After four decades.)
But when
8X10 glossies started to arrive featuring bikini-intensive women sprawled
across ocean-front campuses, the kid got restless to pick an ocean.
One afternoon,
as he sifted through the latest barrage of mailbox propaganda, he asked me
soulfully to share with him – as his professional mother – my opinion of his
talents. I was touched. So before I rendered an opinion, I
consulted my recipe files.
Now, I’m
not being flippant about my ‘professional mother status.’ I don’t even read
recipes or cook in any traditionally–accepted way. So long ago, I converted
this vacant file box to a Quote Holder: a repository in which to store
memorable utterances my kids spouted while growing up. Things like, “Mom, what’s a ‘kosh’?”
“A
‘kosh’!? I don’t know.
Spell it.”
“You know, like when you throw ‘kosh’ into the wind.” Like that.
I
figured a glimpse at this son’s extra-lengthy section might lend insight into
his aptitude and interests, from which a handful of college majors might
spring.
Together, we reviewed years of his razor-sharp whimsy, then brainstormed
for careers in the following manner: “Mom, take a look at this one: In first
grade I said, ‘Me and my Dad are like
Father and Son.’ So whadya
think? Family Therapy? Social
Worker?”
“I don’t
know. Grammarian?”
rolls eyes
“Okay,
honey, what about … ‘Geneticist’?”
“Cool,” he said and wrote this down.
So it
went, until we had sufficient careers to put his troubled mind to rest, or we
ran out of cards.
The
following is the result of our work starting with quotes uttered at various
developmental stages, followed by appropriate career paths.
Grade 2: “Are alligators and crocodiles enough alike to mate?”
Career Options: Biotechnology / Human Sexuality Double
Major
Grade 3: “How do you
pronounce our religion?”
“You mean, ‘Protestant'?"
“THAT’S
it. I always get that confused with ‘prostitute.’”
Career
Options: Comparative Religions, Speech Therapy
Grade 4: “Why can’t tree bark be called Tree Crust?"
Botanical Linguistics Upstart
Grade 5: “If blood is really blue then turns red when
it hits the air, why is it red
when a nurse draws it through a needle
from the vacuum created by an
airtight syringe?”
Hematologist/Professional Geek
Grade 6: “Statistically, is it possible for everyone
to win the lottery if they play each day and live forever?”
Statistics / Immortality Double Major
Grade 7: “Look! I can palm my own head!”
NBA Center
Grade 8: Anonymous Poetry
My best friend’s not reel TALL.
I shoved his face in a WALL.
He called me DOPE
I said NOPE
Then I made him FALL.
Correctional Facility Maintenance Staff
Grade 9: “Why are there so many
lawyers? My best friend wanted to
be one
‘til he found out there were so
many. Now he wants to be an
assassin.”
Reality TV Talent Scout
Grade
10: After falling off skateboard.
“Man, my lower back KILLS!”
Lawyer
Follow-up, same
incident: Mom: “Gosh, do you want
to see a chiropractor or
physical therapist?”
Son: “No, but I might want to see Terminator
2.”
Film Critic/Law, Double Major
Grade 11, Real Time: Son to brother who mistakenly sweeps
Quotes off table walking by:
“Nice
move, RE-boy.”
Mom: “ExCUSE me. Why
is what you said wrong?”
Son: (sighs) “’ Because. . .’using a sub-group as a swear insults
members of that group.’”
Mom: “Yes. And what do we say about insults?”
Son: “They’re okay as long as you use them correctly.”
Public Relations or Presidential
Election-Campaign Manager
*BONUS CAREER: Son
‘noogies’ mother as she jots down a career. Mother accidentally ‘inks out’ a
line.
Mom: “Watch out or I’ll
write on YOU.”
His brother. “Or write more
ABOUT you.”
Son: “Yeah, and get
rejected.”
Entire Staff of The Atlantic
Not only
were we able to come up with absolutely nothing viable, my son became so
frightened by his own American childhood, he decided to apply to the Indian
Ocean in Australia to major in general electives.
And so,
it is clear that with a little parental understanding and teamwork, this very
troubling life decision can be successfully compounded by confusion, panic, and
the need to acquire a passport.
Therefore, I recommend that parents everywhere begin to cook recklessly
and fill their recipe boxes with embarrassing childhood memories that
eventually can be read by strangers – that your children, too, may abscond to a
different country upon their high school graduation.
If there
is anything else I can do for you and yours, don’t hesitate to write it down --
then burn it.
