The Graduate

Is there an engineer in the house? A Civil Engineer? (Enough of the rude ones, as Poppa said.)

There's just nothing quite like seeing your husband in those graduation robes. Especially with freshly-cut hair. I wanted to think it was the end of late-night studying, of heinous math teachers with harsh Asian accents, of the endless juggling between homework, tests, marriage, family, work, fixing up the house, and church.

But it's not. Would Scott be happy if he weren't running in too many directions at once?

He met with Dr. Guthrie about his Master's thesis yesterday, and if he weren't helping install countertops and handles on our kitchen cupboards, he'd be back at the Clyde already. Talk about a short-lived celebration.

Oh well. Maybe later this summer.