Mama mia

This morning, John and I were doing our tornado readiness shopping and were mistakenly caught up in the whirlwind that is Mom's Weekend on campus (this, specifically, while looking for a poster of Albert Pujols, which we--also mistakenly--thought might be available at one of the campus bookstores).

We noticed, first, that the sidewalks of Green Street were a bit more crowded than one would think is normal for a Saturday morning around 10:30. Though maybe it was the type of crowd that caught our attention. The activity consisted of placid strolling with shopping bags, or--what's that?--waiting for the signal to cross streets. The college-age men with fresh shirts put on after a no doubt rare Saturday morning shower; the college-age women in their spring skirts despite the cold, and all of these accompanied by their 40- or 50-something mother figures, who sport new frosted tips or highlights and sharp-lined denim jackets. I could almost hear the merchants grinding out their tired lines about which one is the mom.

The bookstore was perhaps the most frightening scene: Bookstore workers handing out carnations and free popcorn, but no one knowing anything about Albert Pujols. It took me several minutes to figure out what on earth the tall, trim woman with short grey hair was doing on a makeshift stage with a microphone, at the bookstore. Ah, yes: Saturday morning mom-and-me karaoke.

On the south edge of campus (on our drive home), we noticed a special mom's day flower show put on by the horticultural club--here we even spotted the occasional (gasp!) dad, trundling behind mom and daughter, lugging oversized boxes of potted daffodils.

All these scenes (except maybe the karaoke) seemed very 1950s, so I was delighted to arrive at the gym and watch a mom in one of the racquetball courts, decked out in a white headband and big goggles, kicking her son's ass. Less delighted but still amused to have mine kicked by a random mom who was wearing her daughter's too-big running shoes in my spinning class.

Comments

[spencer]

is this elegant post from your novel-in-progress _A Campus in the Sea_?

Love it!

[Pop]

Are your writing skills without limits???

Get ready to move Grisham;
you've been on top long enough.

[dhawhee]

Spencer: close. Try _A Campus in the Sea of Corn_ (riff off of John's mantra about U of I being a cruise ship, floating over corn).

Pop: no comment!