S-k-o-o-l

Alex called from school during his lunch break; the placement tests for math, science, and English are Monday, and he needed to know for sure whether or not he was taking them. If he was, we had to call the school and let them know so that his absence for the day was excused, or one of us would have to go into the office when we picked them up, because while we were off being awful parents keeping our kids out of school for three days, a notice was sent home with the expectation that it would be returned, signed, noting that we intended for our child to take said tests.

When I picked them up from school (having called the office, I didn't see a point of having to get out of the car if I didn't need to) he was carrying a load of books, and had Rachel and Kevin carrying even more for him.

I need to cram for the tests. I want to ace them.

To me, that defeats the purpose of these particular tests, but if the kid wants to spend his weekend studying, I'm not going to stop him. He's intelligent enough; he asked that we keep him in check, make sure he takes breaks, and for God's sake make sure he stops at 5 p.m. Saturday and jumps in the shower, because Stephanie is coming over at 6 and the world will end if he has even a hint of B.O.

(Yet another reason to like this girl; she doesn't expect him to take her out every weekend. She grasps the problems of neither of them being old enough to drive, and doesn't mind just hanging out, and really doesn't mind hanging out here. They don't seem to mind if Kevin and Rachel watch whichever movie they've rented with them, and Alex doesn't mind when Stephanie disappears into Rachel's room to do whatever it is teenage girls do. I'm honestly not sure.)

He hit the books as soon as we got home, getting his regular homework out of the way, and didn't surface until Char called him out of the den for dinner. Rachel peppered him with questions about what he thought the tests would be like and how hard; Kevin wanted to know if he thought college was going to be fun or too much work. After some consideration they all decided that it couldn't be too hard, because they'd all been there while I slogged through my master's and PhD. If Dad can do it...

Your father can do a lot of things what would surprise you, Char told them. He might have made it look easy, but he worked hard.

Before I could revel in the compliment, Alex looked at her, quite seriously, and asked, What about you, Mom? Why didn't you ever go to college?

The easy answer was that when she graduated from high school, her choices were 1) get a job, 2) get a job, or 3) become a stripper, which is just another job. As badly as Brad wanted it for her, he didn't have the means at the time to pay for even community college, but he did have a friend of a friend of a friend, who could put in a good word for her for a job that would actually take her places.

So she took the job, moved clear across the country, and here we are now.

Did you ever want to go to college?

She did; I remember her mentioning it a few times when we were dating. It wasn't something she could easily accomplish at the time, though, not with her work schedule, and not with the expense of living on the east coast. She was, however, putting money aside so that her sister would be able to at least go to a community college. She thought that between what she could save and what her father could scrape up, Nika would have a chance at getting a little more out of her education than she had.

Before Char could deny having ever wanted a higher education, I answered for her. She'd wanted to, and we have even talked about her going after we got married, but it never happened.

The placement tests are walk-in, and open to anyone, Alex told her. And you have lots of time to get an application in for the summer term. I need a ride there everyday, anyway, you know.

I think Char was amused. Not tempted, but amused, and she pointed out to Alex that she was turning 40 this year, a little old to be thinking about getting a college education that would take four or five years to get through.

How old will you be in four or five years if you don't start now?

She tried to stumble through an answer, and lamely popped out with how I had wanted to take a class or two, thinking about getting my teaching credential. She never mentioned that she mostly did not want me to do that.

So? The SUV has like seven seats, Mom, you'll both fit on the ride to school every day.

Her next counter was that she didn't need a college education to be a Mom; whether she learned more about Shakespeare or not, or if she learned anything about basic algebra, that wasn't going to make a difference in how the house got cleaned, the laundry got done, and dinner got on the table. And she was perfectly happy with the life she has.

What about education for the sake of itself? You don't need a reason to learn, and there is no reason for not being open to learning new things.

But--

No one said you had to get a degree. Just take some classes.

But--

Take a class with Dad. Men like hot co-eds, you know.

There was no but there; I agreed with the boy, and told her I'd be more than happy to take a class or two with her, and I'd work hard to not embarrass her.

Her back is up against the wall, and she doesn't have a compelling reason to not take those placement tests on Monday. The problem is, she also doesn't think she has a valid reason to take the tests and then apply to the school.

So help Alex and I out here; give her a reason or two. She wanted this fifteen years ago, there's not a thing standing in her way other than the voices in her head.

Help me convince her.