It's been one day since the son got accepted to a prestigious out-of-state college, one that's a shining blue spot in a big red state. I'm not naming names.
But it has a tower. A Longhorn steer. And a bass drum named Big Bertha.
Along with his out-of-state college comes the out-of-state tuition, which is four times what it would be if he were an in-state resident.
I was expecting the hefty tuition tab. What I wasn't expecting, or at least didn't figure into the worksheet (as if I did a worksheet) was the travel expenses. For us going there, and for him coming home.
Since yesterday, we've already fired up the credit cards and racked up a few thousand in airline tickets and hotel reservations for Family Orientation. Then there's getting him settled in when he leaves for the school in August. Another parents of freshman get together in October. And then we have to bring him home for Thanksgiving and Christmas (we figure the guy we've rented his room to will be already be gone for the holidays).
The other thing all this "education" means is, since he starts in August, our annual vacation to the Hotel Del Coronado will not be happening for the first time in fifteen years. Instead, we'll be holed up in a room at the Doubletree Hotel, enjoying the chocolate chip cookies they give us on check in, and buying him everything he needs for his microscopic-sized room at the university.
And when I'm not doing that, I'll be complaining about not being at the Del.
In those rare moments I can get past how much this is all going to cost, I forget about the fact since young Mr. Spielberg is going to one of the top film schools in the country, I'll have to work writing banner ads and manifestos until I'm ninety.
But that's overshadowed by the enormous pride I have for my boy in going after his dream, getting in the school he wanted and having a clear vision of the path he wants to take. Even though because he's so talented in so many ways, there are a wide variety of paths open to him.
Besides, credit card applications are like buses. There's always another one coming along.
