That silver lining is actually a holding tank

That silver lining is actually a holding tank

Aaah! Son of a . . . I’m getting soaked! I cry.  In balancing a dog leash, three tote bags and an impressively ineffectual umbrella, the fifteen foot walk to the truck may as well be a city block long. Minutes before we are ready to leave the house, the sky opens up the flood gates to dump a deluge upon us. And with the bonus feature of rather aggressive gusts of wind, it feels like I’m taking a cold shower with my clothes on. And it’s only 6:00 a.m.  Yep, it’s gonna be a good day, Scooter.

Yaxley, Car! Jump! I ask the pup to get in the back seat of the truck cab. It’s dark and difficult for him to see where exactly he should be landing. I don’t blame him for hesitating a moment. The truck sits pretty high (it’s a manly man truck after all) and with all that rain in his eyes, it’s just not a sure thing.  Ok, fine. No prob. I’ll just set the tote bags in the front, switch the umbrella to the other hand and . . .

[bleep]! [bleep]! [bleep] it! Aargh! In my frantic struggle, I’ve tipped the umbrella and have now soaked the last dry part of my back.

Do you need some help? asks the Husband. He’s sitting all dry and cozy in the driver’s seat and watching the drama unfold. All that’s missing here is the bowl of popcorn in his lap

Naw, I’m good. I say.  Nothing left to do here, but fold the umbrella and toss in on the cab floor. With one hand under his chest and the other snuggled into his goodies, I lift the dog and settle him into the back seat without further ado. I then heave my five foot something self up and into the manly man truck, resulting in a wedgie that I’m going to get to know personally over the next two hour drive. With the confidence of woman who knows, I can tell you that I am completely soaked through.

Well, we’ve got time to dry on our way to Bowling Green State University, I think. And if I don’t touch my hair now, I imagine maybe it’ll dry into some kicky look that will make me look all cutting edge stylish. A glance into the visor mirror tells me otherwise. Great. I shift in my seat a little in an attempt to dislodge the wedgie. No go. The truck fills with the aroma of wet dog and wasted hair spray.

This rain’s gonna be good for the lawn, says the Husband in an attempt for casual conversation. I say nothing. I’m strong that way.

Inga visits Derek in 2009

Yeah, so a bit of a rough start for the day.  But really, it is gonna be a good one, you know.  We’re off to see my favorite kid graduate from BGSU.  We’re feeling pretty jazzed about the whole affair.

While it’s absolutely not true that we replaced the kid with a dog and he should stop telling people that, it is a fact that we’ve raised three puppies for Canine Companions for Independence while he was away at college. I suppose I could have put the dog crate in his old bedroom, but that wouldn’t have been right.  That’s gonna be my new scrapbook room, of course.

But we couldn’t be prouder of Derek. He’s done so very well over these past four years.  Dean’s list, President of his Delta Chi fraternity, Undergrad Student Government and heading several philanthropy events, he’s achieved more than a degree over these four years

I recently read an article about the changes in child rearing during the past few generations. What do today’s mothers want for their children as adults, asks the writer. Many will say number one on their list is that they want their kids to grow up “to be happy.”  Compare that with a couple of generations ago when if you asked a mother what she wanted for her children, she would say “to be a good citizen.” That factoid struck me. Heck, I’m no parenting expert. We only had the one practice kid, so our mistakes varied between the no biggies to the profound. But I’m thinking if you get the good citizen part down, then achieving a happy life is totally doable too. And my kid?  A good citizen, indeed. He know it’s about what he can do to make the world a better place and not what’s the world gonna do for him.

I’m liking this mindset. A lot.

Micron and Derek 2010

So, we brought Yaxley is along for the graduation experience, as well.  Good exposure to crowds and to patiently wait in a Down during the ceremony itself, which lasted about two hours. Yax only got up once which was to stand for the National Anthem cuz that’s how we roll around here. 

Another puppy raiser asked if we were the only family in attendance with a good-looking dog. Which I replied, Yes. Yes, we were the only folk with a dog at the BGSU graduation, handsome or otherwise. And I also noted that my theory on drive-by pettings was supported by the events of the day.

Most people will ask if they may pet Yaxley. But the drive-by pettings I catch from the corner of my eye?  Always men. I’ve not been proven wrong yet on this observational theory. Darn it all fellas, the dog is wearing a cape and everything. C’mon, don’t make me get out the hairy eyeball on you. It ain’t pretty. Or so I’ve been told.  The ole’ hairy eyeball kicks butt.

Yaxley and Derek at graduation 2012

But we’re all pay attention now, Yaxley. In six months, we want to come to your graduation, too. The calendar’s already marked for next February. We want you to do well in CCI’s dog college so I can cry as you proudly walk to the stage.

Yax, my love, you can be both a good citizen and be happy. Just look at Derek. That’s how we raised you guys.

So yeah, the kid’s doing pretty darn well.  With a double major in psychology and sociology, he’s ready to hit the work force. Do wish him luck, won’t you? It’s a tough job market out there for today’s college grads.

And I’ve already moved my scrapbook stuff into the bedroom.

We’re actually in this shot.  Lower right.  I’m the chick with the bad hair.

You know, Yaxley, graduation is a good thing. You’re next, big guy.