Today may be the most important day of life. My son is taking the SAT. My entire future happiness depends on him scoring well enough to get into college and out of my house.
To understand how very much this means to me you have to know this - my son is an egomaniac. Despite all evidence to the contrary he remains convinced of his unsurpassed genius. I have patronized him through the years never realizing that this was going to come back to bite me firmly on the you-know-what. The truth started to set in a few weeks ago, when he was told he could not get in to even the most humble college unless he scored a 900 or above on the SAT.
Please don't get me wrong. Cullen has potential, though probably not as much as he believes. But he has fallen into the trap of many. He believes potential is all it takes. I say this with the utmost love; he is lazy, lazy, lazy. Until his senior year his grades have been abysmal. And, I might as well be entirely truthful, I have been doing his homework for years. It started off innocently enough and I was motivated by love, I swear. Then the hole got so big the only way I could see out was to keep digging. And, yes, I was warned over and over that making it too easy wasn't going to help in the long run. No one has ever accused me of genius.
I signed Cullen up for the test a month ago. I mapquested the location, sharpened his #2 pencils, printed out all the tipsheets and signed him up for the pretest. No point in trying to turn this ship around now, right? He professed to all who would listen that he was certain he would get a 1200 and did absolutely nothing, didn't read the tipsheets, didn't study, didn't take the pretest. Until tonight. It did not go well. He went to bed a humbler young man. And I am stuck trying to figure out a way to take the test for him.
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