The Bachelor

Mitch thought this day would never come, but it finally did.

He is officially a bachelor.

Of science, that is.

There were some days in his junior high career when I wondered if he would make it through eighth grade. I never even dared to dream of college for that kid.

But one day, he grew up, and started remembering to turn in his homework.

And here we are, four or so years later, proud as parents can be.

We all got up at five in the a.m. this morning to make it to Weber State's graduation at the ungodly hour of eight a.m.

We were all on time, even Mitch.

Here he is on his way into graduation, being greeted by one of his professors.

 And here he is with the lovely Ria, who has put up with him the past couple of  years, while going to school herself.

That is the face of a guy who is slowly realizing he has no more papers to write or projects to complete or stupid gender studies classes to sit through.

 We were glad that Grandma and Grandpa got up early and came too. They helped him out so much through the years, when his car broke down, and with many encouraging words and steak dinners. Between the university ceremony and the department ceremony, they took us to breakfast at Sills. 

And Grandpa Dan made an appearance at the department commencement. That was a great surprise, and a long drive for him.

Because we are dorky parents, and because he loves us, he obliged us with the traditional tossing of the cap

After all the pomp and circumstance was over, Grandma Sally and Grandpa Dee were pooped and headed for home. Grandpa Dan took us diehards out for dinner at the  Prairie Schooner. We had our own covered wagon to eat in, and the best steak I ever had.

Sadly, we also had a bloody ketchup massacre at dinner when a ketchup bottle attacked Grandpa without warning. Somehow, flying ketchup got all over Grandpa, all over the canvas wagon cover, and even all over the buffalo hide that was hanging up outside our table, about five feet away.

There were no survivors.