That’s what my dad used to call education. He came from Scotland in 1956 with a hammer in hand, no money, and a hunger for hard work. He never gave the impression of respecting higher education or caring for anything but a strong work ethic. Last weekend, I went to visit him in the home he is living at. When I told him I got a couple of A’s and a B+ this past semester he started crying.
After all the complaining I did about hurting my brain at the cellular level with neuropsychology, statistics and infant development I’m actually looking forward to heading back to school and getting my higher edumacation!
Awwww…. Dad’s are the best!