Smack Dab in the Middle of Life: College Acceptance

As my son finishes up his senior year of high school and prepares to become a man, I am faced with the reality of how I am going to pay for all this. His dream school comes with a price tag of 78,000 US dollars. That would be a lot of money in pesos, rubles, and shekels too — all for the opportunity to run out of clean underwear, eat ramen noodles out of Styrofoam cups, and potentially find a life partner in the anti-cleanliness confines of a cinderblock dorm room. 

I am so happy for my son! He has excelled in academics with a five-point-something GPA, thanks to me and my educational prowess as a very solid C student. Thank goodness he paid more attention to his mother’s straight-A excellence. He exceled in his love of basketball and has earned an opportunity to play hoops in college, another benefit of spending 78,000 US dollars, which is a lot of yen too.

I am a proud dad, to say the least. I am even more proud that I do not have to spend two weeks in prison with the likes of typical hardened criminals names like Felicia, Lori, or Mossimo. I did not resort to paying anyone off to get my kid into school; he actually earned the right for us to spend 78,000 US dollars, which is a lot of money, even in euros. He did it the old-fashioned way: through hard work, dedication, community service, and learning the lessons of all of that through sports, service and academics.

Acceptance is a wonderful excitement. Sure, he worked his butt off to get to this point, but what I don’t understand is why acceptance has to come at such a high cost to me. Of course, a college education will give him the experiences and knowledge of a lifetime, but what about the hit to my retirement and my glory days? I am what people would consider a middle-aged man. I am smack dab (hopefully) in the middle of my life. To go along with my midlife crisis I get to figure out how to pay for his experience of playing Hacky Sack at 2:00 a.m. as he and his newfound friends try to solve the world’s problems through rose-colored beer goggles.  

Sure, maybe I won’t get to travel the world. Maybe there will be no more fancy restaurants for me (and definitely no plastic surgery for a nip here or a tuck there). But I will figure out how to pay that 78,000 US dollars a year over the next four years, which is a lot of money, even in pounds sterling. I will do it proudly, as what do I have to lose? My hair? It’s already gone. My nails? They are already bitten short, thanks to 2020 and a pinch of 2021. My figure? Well, that has already been shaped by stress eating. So, I guess I’ll up the dosage on my blood pressure pills, suck it up, and figure this out.

I am kind of upset about how this is really going to jack up my midlife crisis — no fancy cars, no lavish vacations to the Maldives, and no running with the Tom Brady crowd. I plan to do what I do best: ask questions. I will continue to implore my wife to answer the burning inquiry of: “How the F%@K are we going to pay for this?” That line has become my daily mantra.    

Thankfully, my wife is a skilled planner, we have some liras put away, and we will get through it. It is my duty as a parent to figure this out and give my kids an opportunity to grow. In a mere three more years, after I figure this out, my daughter will be ready for her acceptance letter. With the overlap of having two kids in college at once, that one year could cost me 156,000 US dollars. But the next year after that lofty sum, we will earn a reprieve back to 78,000 US dollars, which is a lot even in riyals.

My daughter loves volleyball, so I am asking any D1 university coaches who wants to save an imploding midlife crisis to please offer her a full scholarship to play for you. Think of all the good you could do for me if you paid for her education with room and board included. She is a sweetheart and a coach’s dream. I know I will still have to pay for her wedding, but your part in this equation will help a brother out a lot.

Back to me now. I feel what is left of my hair is beginning to fall out. I’ll Uber a hot fudge sundae to my home to soothe my nerves and calm my churning stomach. Next fall, there will be a sad day as I drop my firstborn off at college and the Cat’s in the Cradle lyrics by Harry Chapin reverberate loudly in my neocortex. With a tear in my eye and a blush of jealously, I will walk away from my son’s dorm room with only one lingering thought: “How the F%@K am I going to pay for this?!”

Acceptance…Middle-Aged Crisis…Check!

Onward and up!

The HR Dad Greg Brenner is the author of the Smack Dab in the Middle of Life series and host of the Everyday People Podcast - By The HR Dad (available across the Galaxy). His passions are with all things people. In collaboration with his incredible wife, he has two wonderful kids, a eighteen-year-old son and a fifteen-year-old daughter who make him distinctly qualified to be the Dad.

At work, he leads a wonderful tribe who has taught him to learn, inspire and grow as the Assistant Vice President of Talent and Organizational Development at the fantastic University of Miami and Health System – UHealth.

He cherishes the time to write about HR, leadership, and daily life. Thanks to his tribe, colleagues, network, and family, he has plenty of material. Writer’s block is never a problem.