Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Have I ever told you guys why we call him "Dr. Krog"?
After he finished his dissertation and started his job here in Atlanta, we had to drive back to Clemson for graduation day. There he stood, in his blueberry-colored robe and cap, waiting to check in. His name was on the list, and the nice lady handed us a packet of stuff that we soon lost.
Sitting in the stands, I looked through my program and saw his correctly spelled name next to "Ph.D". I exhaled in relief and pride. All his hard work was rewarded.
They called his name and gave him his fake diploma, and I cheered for him.
On the way home, he sheepishly explained that he hadn't kept up with his paperwork, still had missing library books, and had driven to his own graduation with only a 60% chance of graduating, according to his statistical mind.
"Was my name right in the program?" he asked. "I figured they would mess that up, too."
"Yeah, it says right here, 'Krog Doodler, Bachelor of Arts in Library Sciences'," I said.
And since then, we've called him Dr. Krog.
It reminds us of hard work, young foolishness, the errors inherent in the system, and the blueberry-colored robe that's still in the trunk of his car, a fond reminder of our time in South Carolina.
It also reminds me that I only went to college to marry me a hawt doctor and get my M-R-S degree. But I'm okay with that.