In two weeks Hugh goes to boarding school. This is weird. We are not boarding school people. We are not upper-middle-class Brits, members of the East Coast elite, or a missionary family. We're not even private school people. We're not Catholic. But here we are, sending our son off to a Catholic boarding school. In Mississippi, no less. We are sending our African-American son to friggin' Catholic boarding school in friggin' Mississippi.
Damn. Parenthood has made us do, and become, strange things.
The thoughts and adventures of a woman confronting her second half-century.
About Me
- Facing 50
- Woman, reader, writer, wife, mother of two sons, sister, daughter, aunt, friend, state university professor, historian, Midwesterner by birth but marooned in the South, Chicago Cubs fan, Anglophile, devotee of Bruce Springsteen and the 10th Doctor Who, lover of chocolate and marzipan, registered Democrat, practicing Christian (must practice--can't quite get the hang of it)--and menopausal.
Names have been changed to protect the teenagers. As if.
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