Why I count you and School PR as two of life’s blessings – SCN Encourager

Unlike Cindy and my daughters, you give me creative “wiggle room.”

Thank you!

screen-shot-2016-10-05-at-2-58-26-pmI love Cindy and the girls, of course.

But they have such an incredibly low threshold for BS.

Maybe you do, too… but at least you’re better at hiding it.

It seems like I’m always on defense during most of my conversations with them, if you know what I mean.

I try to point out they’re not being very “tolerant.”

But this only makes things worse. (for me)

I had a wonderful lunch last week with Kate, my oldest daughter.

She graduated from Holland High in 2002 – and because she’s always had marine science in her heart since preschool (AKA Shamu) – she chose to go to small private college on the west coast of Florida.

This shocked me somewhat because Kate definitely fits into the  “shy homebody” category, but then again, I was awfully proud of her gumption.

So off she went.
Did well.
Got her Masters later.
And is now doing research for a company near Holland.

During our lunch, Kate said she regretted ever going away to “that hoity-toity college in Florida.”

jaspy-at-8-19-59-pm“What?” I asked. “Didn’t you just tell me you’re going to Florida next month to visit seven of your college friends? What are you talking about? You made good friends there.”

“Dad,” Kate explained. “You don’t get it. My college friends are great. But the eight of us were the only scholarship kids on campus. All of the other students came from super-millionaire homes. We’re all we had. We didn’t fit in.”

“Seriously,” I said. “I can’t believe that. I don’t think you’re giving yourself – or them – enough credit. How’d you meet the other scholarship students anyway? Did you have classes or study groups together?”

“No, Dad, we didn’t.” Kate said, still in explaining mode, “Think about it. Poor kids will always find each other.”


That statement really hit me.

“Poor kids will always find each other.”

I asked Kate, “How come I’m just learning this now? Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Oh man, Dad,” she smiled. “I didn’t want to find out that you are the dad of one of the poor kids. You’d probably start acting goofier than usual.”

“That’s true.” I conceded, knowing she was right.

And by next week, I’ll activate the toll-free number for my “Poor Dads Crisis Hotline.”

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