I was sitting in my 2007 Toyota Highlander, where my recently skunked labradors hang out, in the parking lot of a bowling alley in a run down strip mall, when my cell phone buzzed.

“Hi, Mom! You’ll never guess where I am.”

It was my son Andy, who is getting his doctorate–in chemical biology– at Harvard.  He was calling me from Phelps Gate at Yale, having just arrived for his 5 year college reunion.

“Andy, that is so awesome. Who have you seen? What is the schedule?”

Andy, who is two years younger than Matthew, told me that he had met with a professor the night before “who is doing a lot of the research that I am doing” in God knows what. He was on his way to meet up with old roommates at one of the great pizza places in New Haven.

“Take pictures,” I said, my heart so full of pride and love that my throat nearly closed up. “I can’t wait to hear all about it,” though with sons, you never hear ALL about it.

“What about you?” he asked, “what are you up to this weekend?”

I told him I was sitting in my skunky car in the parking lot of Diablo Valley Bowl, and that Matthew was inside, bowling 5 games independently. Andy’s big brother had instructed his mother to wait in the car and not to

come in, no matter what. He wanted the folks at the bowling alley to think he had driven there himself. Ha, ha, ha. Hello Andy? You still there?

“Mom,” Andy said, his voice cracking ever so slightly, “that is huge. You must be so proud.”

Hell, Yeah.