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June 7th, 2015:

A College Degree and 20 Years On The Job

Apparently, that means nothing to my 14 year old son.

He had this big essay due for part of his final lit grade. He really wanted to do well on it. He worked on it for a week.

The night it was due (electronically by 11:59 p.m.), he came out and asked me and Hubby “Can one of you review this for me? I really need a good grade. Spelling. Grammar. All that stuff. It needs to be good.”

Naturally, we decided it should be me . . . you know, the one with the English degree and the one who can actually spell.

I spent time reviewing it with him, providing suggestions, etc.

He said thank you and was happy.

Later that night, around 10:30, I went into his room to say goodnight. He was on the phone with one of his buddies (who is also in Scouts with him). I told him to cut it short and get to bed so he was rested for finals.

The next evening at Scouts, I walk in and the buddy’s dad says “So ya – M and Dude were up until 11:30 last night on the phone! Apparently M was helping Dude with some big essay he had. I could hear them through the bedroom wall. M was giving him all kinds of advice on things to change and what would be better.”

WTF?!

I do this for a friggin’ living! People PAY me to edit their stuff! And he thinks that after he asks me to look at it that it would be a good idea to send it to one of his 16 year old buddies to review?!

Seriously?!