Let me preface this post by saying I’m on a train to Poughkeepsie, I’m severely hungover, and I’m sitting next to two backpackers who wish to perpetuate the stereotype of Europeans and their dislike of frequent showers.
So as most of you know, I have my children’s lives plotted out down to who they’ll roommate with in college. And up to now, everyone’s pretty much accepted it.
And then, yesterday:
Pie: I’m not going to school here.
Me: Of course you are. You’ll go to Tisch just like your mommy. You’ll live with Mimi, who’s also going to school here [a bonus about being friends with me: I’ll also plot out your kids’ lives].
Pie: I don’t want to.
Me: Yes, you do. The school color is violet. Purple is your favorite color.
Pie: I’m going to go to school in Arlington.
Me: Sweetie, there are no colleges in Arlington. But you don’t have to worry, because as soon as you come to NYU for school, we’ll be moving to New York, too! That way we’ll be right near you at NYU and really close to your brother at Princeton.
Pie: I’m not going to NYU and I’m not living with Mimi!
Me: Oh?
Pie: Yes! I’m going to Princeton and I’m living with Doodles!
Doodles: Oh man! I don’t want to live with Pie in college!
Me: Oh hush. It’s a wonderful idea! Absolutely, Pie. You can go to Princeton and live with your brother.
Doodles pouts. Pie is happy.
Pie: But you can still buy me a purple NYU shirt. I’ll still wear it.
Me: Oh joy.
