"Truck U"?

 

Well, Charlie Jr. is going to college. Of course, his dad, yours truly, wanted him to follow in my footsteps by attending Truck U., but, alas, it wasn't meant to be.

Yesterday me and Kitty and Charlie loaded up the Winnebago and headed down the hiways and byways of these United States of America in order to register our son into the exalted realm of higher education. Our little boy would soon be leaving the nest, so it was a time of mixed blessings.

Boo hoo. Even the crusty catfish-yours truly-was secretly shedding a few tears, unbeknownst to the rest of the clan, because it hit me: my son's time at Golden Pond is indeed over. Shirley, he'll be home for the Christmas holidays and will be here for the summer, but, Shirley, it will never be the same.

As I motored the Winnebago down the interstate, Kitty was catching a few z's and Charlie was immersed in his ipod. I peered in the rear view mirror to catch a glimpse of my grown son, who was not a kid any more. And my mind began to wander. Back to the past.

How Charlie, as a baby, would try to swim on the carpet. Making adorable cooing noises like goo-goo, ga-ga, da-da.

And how he always stole second base and third base in our neighborhood baseball game in the front yard. [ Well, the ball and bat were plastic ] He always had a devilish grin on his face when he would take off. And on the rare occasion I would tag him out, he would laugh and giggle, cos he knew the next time he would be successful by pulling another one over on Dad.

And how when I went on a trip to Columbus for two weeks, he ran around to the back yard to say one last goodbye, while the rest of the clan retreated inside.

And I remembered some of the movies I took him to see. The "G" rated ones and then later on, we graduated [ pun unintended ] to the "parental guidance" ones. And I remember falling asleep in most of them, notably "Dennis the Menace," but I'm not so sure Charlie noticed or would have cared.

And I remember as he got older, he started having less to do with his parents while enjoying more time with his friends.

So as I looked at him in the rear-view, I got kinda sad. But happy for him, because new adventures lay ahead of him.

He has always made us proud and has given us little or no problems. So he's not going to Truck U., my old alma mater. Well, there's always grad school.

Pomp and Circumstance, v.c.

P.S. We don't really have a Winnebago. Transportation was provided by ol' Betsy. My faithful companion, who wouldn't have missed it for the world.