What a surprise. The boys and I packed up and drove to Dahlonega, Georgia, where Helene’s eyeball was projected to blow over. Of course, like a typical lady, she changed course at the last minute and decided to shift eighty miles and give Greenville, South Carolina, quite the beating. So, we changed course, topped off our gas tank, grabbed some Chick-fil-A, and drove up.
Fog blankets the soybean field every morning at sunrise. We walk with ease next to the beans, each step providing a change in view of the sun creeping through the pines. I pause, close my eyes, and take a deep breath through my nose to fill my lungs with the crisp, clean morning air.
Mud, however, did not inform me of his decision to discard his dinner a few feet in front of me. My nose didn’t stand a chance. I could taste the leftover steak in the back of my throat.
A moment I hoped to be filled with natural beauty, Mud viewed as the perfect location for sanitational measures. The funny thing is, we were both right.
I went to college when I was twenty-five, and here’s what I learned.
I learned that hard is relative. I learned the cleanest bathrooms are in the administrative buildings, but by far, the most important thing I learned was grades are highly negotiable.
One afternoon, I headed to Dr. Bo Kai’s office hours–my statistics professor. When I arrived, he had the door open and was sitting in his chair with his head leaned back, staring at his computer screen. The only thing on the screen was some kind of guacamole recipe from Southeast Asia…
Dirt & Mud have a lot to say! Although I tried, Dirt demanded we never sell you a daggum thing. “I would rather eat spam than send it,” he told me. Mud nodded his head in agreement.
