Showing posts with label humiliation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humiliation. Show all posts

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Twelve THOUSAND dollars

Mr. Peevie and I are trying to impress on C. Peevie the importance of getting good grades in high school. He's a good student, but not as good as he has the potential to be.

My colleague Shawty was telling me that her son ShawtySpawn had qualified for a significant scholarship at the private liberal arts college he would be attending in the fall. They received a letter from the financial aid office charting the relationship between grade point average and scholarship amount, and she showed it to me.

"If his grade point average had been .2 higher," she said, "he would have qualified for $4,000 more per year."

"Can I have a copy of that letter?" I asked. "I want to show it to C. Peevie."

So I brought the letter home to use as an object lesson to motivate my gifted but distractable #1 son to kick his academics into high gear.

"Look at this, C. Peevie," I said, thrusting the letter in his face. "This is from my friend Shawty at work. Her son is getting a scholarship, which is great. But if his GPA had been .2 higher, he would have qualified for $4,000 more per year."

I paused for dramatic effect.

"Four thousand dollars per year," I said. "That's twelve THOUSAND dollars."

I waited for the significance to sink in. C. Peevie waited for the part of my brain that does math to catch up.

It didn't catch up.

"Is he only going to school for three years, then?" C. "Smarty-Pants" Peevie asked innocently. It took me a full minute to get it.

"Sixteen THOUSAND dollars!" I corrected myself, but it was too late. "Crap."

"You just ruined your entire point," C. Peevie laughed.

Mr. Peevie was sitting nearby, shaking his head, as he often does when I attempt to do math.

"Did you even go to college?" he asked.

Well, I did, but you don't learn simple multiplication in college. Apparently I was absent that day in third grade.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Little League Mom Humiliates Self Again

I forgot to mention that I have a new post on The Little League Coach.

This post is a continuation of my series of posts about cup-related humiliation. Check out Cup Stories: The 40-Year-Old Cup Virgin when you have a chance. Leave a comment so that Rick McBride gets an idea about how powerful and influential I am.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Stumped by a Cup

I am a girl jock--or at least, I used to be. (Lately I'm a slug.) I've had experience in my years with all sorts of sporting equipment: bats and rackets; balls of every shape and size (get your mind out of the gutter); court shoes, running shoes, and cleats; baseball pants, tennis skirts, volleyball shorts, and the infamous "shiney hiney" basketball uniforms we had to wear in junior high; sports bras; goggles--you name it, I've participated in the sport and I have at least passing familiarity with the equipment.

Having a boy in Little League changed all that. I had to buy a cup for the first time. You can read about my humiliation in my guest post in The Little League Coach, entitled Cup Stories.