There is one thing I really love and that is being right.  I know that is a very proud thing to say, but I just can't help it.  I suppose that's where Professor Calculus gets it.  He likes being right even more than I do.  And more than anything, he likes being right juxtaposed with my being wrong. 

When he is right, or even when he thinks he's right it is associated with such a swagger that I am left to assume that it must be the most satisfying thing in the world to be a thirteen year old male and best your mother in something.  But I have never met anyone in the world who doesn't like being right.  Some people are more accepting of not being right, I suppose.  But maybe that is just because they have had to get used to it.

So today I am feeling particularly smug about something I was right about. 

Scout did not go off to college still nursing.  Or sleeping in our bed.  She is no longer dependent on us, and, to top it all off she can think for herself and do anything else for herself.  Who knew?

I did, that's who.

So I feel justified and even obligated, really, to continue to throw out the advice I have given for twenty years, "He won't go off to college with that blankie/sleeping in your bed/needing you to sit with him while he goes to sleep/still nursing."  Or any number of things we do to make children feel secure that people told us would be their ruination and cause them to be dependent on us for the rest of their natural days.

Remember.  A thesaurus is your best friend.  Keep one in every room.