Life on the Lakefront
This year marks a special year for the Carter household because our youngest child is now a senior. This means that soon we will be faced by that affliction known as empty nest syndrome while in the meantime we have a condition referred to as empty wallet syndrome. The latter syndrome is what happens as you have to purchase all the “must haves” for your high school seniors. Such as senior rings; senior yearbooks; graduation wardrobe including cap, gown, and tassel; but these are merely the tip of the iceberg because there are also graduation presents, both to your own kid and their friends but also to their friends’ friends, casual acquaintances, and the children of business associates.
Of course there are also the usual high school events, trips, dances, competitions, and parties, all of which are made mandatory by the fact that it is the senior year, and all of which, by rule must cost at least six million dollars which all must be paid in nickels. Of course, I am exaggerating, they will take dimes.
My own graduation which according to my son happened just before the Revolutionary War was much less expensive. This is because of a number of factors. For one thing the diplomas were printed on papyrus scrolls while today they are printed on “long-lasting, high quality paper made from special woods containing platinum fibers.”
Of course the expense is not the only factor of note during the senior year. I have observed over time the peculiar occurrence of a condition that I have begun calling senioritis. It occurs in every senior student I have ever known and usually occurs at a point when they suddenly realize that the school they have hated every minute for the last twelve years is almost over and they are not sure what they will do without it.
It is during this time that parents and the pending high school graduate are engaged in a sociological ritual that we will refer to here as, insert a drum roll,” insanity. Most seniors during this period of time will proudly announce to their parents that he or she has decided what they are going to do with the rest of their lives. The parent often during this period is hopeful that the child will announce something such as, “I am going to go to college, major in a new high tech field, and make lots of money and you don’t have to worry about any of it because I worked hard in high school and have earned enough scholarships to pay for it all. Ha, ha, of course that is what we would like to hear, but the announcement is usually something like, “I have decided to tour Europe with a rock and roll band called the Perverted Maniacs, and find myself.” To which many of us parents reply, “When you find yourself, have yourself clean your room.”
Not to worry, in the high school senior, this plan changed on a weekly basis, and each plan is announced just as certainly and just as confidently like, “I am going to join the circus, the army, the foreign legion, the Young Republicans, or all of them at the same time. None of these weekly goals however have anything to do with getting a job. All of these goals will assure that you have to keep your jobs. My advice to those going through senioritis for the first time is to relax and stock up on aspirin, although I just checked my wallet, and can’t afford to guy a bottle because my son took all my cast to buy the mandatory senior jogging suit.
