A Telephone Conversation

Hello?

Hey, Bub. What’s going on?

Oh, that’s funny. It sounded like you said that you wanted me to pick you up from college because dorm checkout is on Friday.

Oh, that’s a good one. Your generation certainly likes to play jokes on people. Is this one of those Ashton Kutcher, Pranked, Kerplunked, errr, Punked episodes?

What’s that?

Get out! How can you be serious? It was just a couple of weeks ago that we dropped you off to begin your collegiate career? Many events like redundant chapel announcements, homework hotline updates and dentist appointments may escape my memory, but that day I remember.

You really don’t know when to quit. It can’t be over. I still walk by your empty room, miss you and wonder how you are doing?

Have you even taken your first semester final exams?

Really? How did you do?

Well, Mom will be glad to hear that.

What about all that snow from the west side? Have you experienced any of it?

All of it’s melted?

But I thought you were in the midst of a heated intramural flag football season?

I thought you just started making movies during some of that rare collegiate free time. You said something about using a green screen to bring your video creativity to the world in ways mere mortals could not fathom.

Really, thirteen movies?

Sure, I saw them but I can’t believe you made thirteen in the first two weeks of school.

Well, it seems like it’s only been two weeks.

So did you make millions from Swimmer's Itch, your Tube channel?

Thousands?

Hundreds?

Tens?

If you are liberal with your rounding, did you at least make one dollar?

But that wasn’t meant to be funny.

But you just started blogging for the school’s newspaper and shortly after that you were hired to be on The Lanthorn staff and are now writing sports articles.

I know you covered softball and track but I wasn’t sure those were spring sports in college. Like I said, it seems like we just dropped you off a couple of weeks ago.

Did you get expelled for running around the floor after quiet hours and this is your lame attempt to cover it up?

I guess. If the Dean of Students issued a decree that ends the second semester in April and further decreed that you have to be packed up and out by Friday, I guess I’ll just restart the car and come get you.

The first collegiate year went by faster than hanging up on a telemarketer.