Flagship U has been the Spawn’s first choice college for a couple of years now, and after we went to a couple of prospective student visit days, she went ahead and filled out her application before the early answer deadline. This is not the same as as early decision admission, where the kid pledges to attend if accepted — a move which seems to reduce any sort of bargaining power in the financial aid process. This process at Flagship simply guarantees an answer by mid-December, presumably taking some pressure off the kid.
The application was launched at the beginning of October, so we’ve spent the last six weeks anxiously awaiting the U’s reply. Well, the Spawn was anxious, and to a lesser degree, so was Mrs. M. — I’ve been in the game long enough and have read enough about the process to recognize that the Spawn has the sort of academic profile that is squarely in Flagship’s wheelhouse, and that her admission was essentially a foregone conclusion. But while I can (and did) tell them that, it is of course another thing when you’re the subject of the decision, and the Spawn has grown increasingly twitchy as we have waited for the week of December 15th.
The tension ratcheted up a bit more last week, when we heard that some of the Spawn’s classmates had already received their fat envelopes, while we still had no word. We were also startled by how far ahead of the December 15th date this news was spilling out. The ladies of the house were even more antsy, but they hoped the lack of word stemmed from our family’s position in the middle of the alphabet. Then that hope was dashed when we learned a kid whose name starts with S had made it in.
However, when I got home from a committee meeting yesterday afternoon, I swung by the mailbox and discovered a large envelope from Flagship, addressed to the Spawn. I found her in the living room, and told her what had arrived. She came over and looked at the envelope, and discovered something I hadn’t seen. On the back of the envelope was a large picture of Flagship’s mascot with the word “Yes!” in a cartoon bubble.
After that, opening the envelope was almost anticlimactic. But not quite.
Last night at bedtime, she said, “I’ve decided I’m going to get a doctorate. I’m not sure in what yet, but a doctorate.”
Now it’s my turn to be nervous.