Don't Go Through Life Without Goals

Last night, we sat around the fire pit in the back yard watching our kids burn their school papers and workbooks. Yes, I know it may have sent the wrong message to let them wantonly celebrate the beginning of their summer by destroying the evidence of their education, but we were low on wood. Don't judge me.

Anyway, one of my 9 year-old son's friends, in the middle of tossing his science notebook onto the raging flames, announced, "Do you know what my goal is?"

Of course we all said, "What?"

"To be valedictorian of my senior class."

"Well that's quite an ambitious and worthy goal," I encouraged, knowing that he's fully capable of the achievement.

My son, of course, just had to reveal his lack of vision by asking, "What's a baledectrian?"

"The valedictorian," I corrected, "is the student who has earned the top grades over four years of high school or college. He gets recognized at his graduation and he gives a speech to the graduation guests and his fellow classmates. It's quite an honor," I explained. Then I gave him a chance to redeem himself. "So, do you have a goal?"

He thought for a minute, then said, "Yes. My goal is to be the prime meridian."

It was my turn to get clarification. "The what?"

"The prime meridian, the center of attention. I won't have to wait until graduation to get recognized or to get people to listen to what I have to say."

What can I say? At least he has a well thought-out goal. And he's fully capable of achieving it.

Another Happy Mothers' Day

For Mothers' Day, my husband and kids took me to see a University of Georgia baseball game at Foley Field in Athens. For my mom for Mothers' Day, we took my dad with us.

Instead of chocolate, flowers, and sparkling diamonds, I got general admission seats, serenaded with, "Take me out to the ballgame," and Diamond Dawgs.

On the way home, feeling like he had helped the kids plan the most successful Mothers' Day event of all time, my husband asked, "So, next year for Mothers' Day how about we get you a tube top and a push-up bra and take you to Talladega?"

"Sounds great," replied my dad.

And I'll go along with the sordid idea, too, if it includes another day of eating peanuts and saying to heck with the laundry.