What were you doing the moment you found out your child was accepted to an elite private school?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I still remember:

Pre-K: It was a cold day. I lived in an apartment and the fat envelope was jammed inside the box. At first I thought it was a magazine, but when I pulled it out, I saw the logo of green children holding hands.

St. Albans: I was having a Christmas open house and my son ran out to get the mail for me. I was holding a tray of stuffed mushrooms when I saw the envelope in his hand...

So OP, what were you doing having your Christmas open house in March? Even children from the school of green hands aren't notified in December are thery?

[Anonymous]

Happy days...I admit when one has won the gold medal one never forgets.

Pre-K: It was a balmy spring evening. I was drinking a small gin and tonic and stuffing larks' cheeks with jamon iberico when my butler brought me the letter on a silver tray.

St. Albans: It was cold. I was upstairs having my anus bleached. I snorted a little Bolivian marching powder in celebration.

Yale: I was whipping the new maid a rolled-up copy of Horse and Hounds - there had been an unforgivable incident with a Ming Vase. Weather: overcast, light rain later.

Harvard Law School: the butler found me asleep in the stables after a large dose of ketamine. In my drug-induced fog I could barely take in the good news. I must have slept with half of Mclean in the course of the next week.

[Anonymous]

Oh crap! I thought I was supposed to sleep with the admissions committee not the Head of the school. Damn, blew it for DC.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:Oh crap! I thought I was supposed to sleep with the admissions committee not the Head of the school. Damn, blew it for DC.

No worries that happened to the best of us. Live and learn is my motto. Cheers!

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:Happy days...I admit when one has won the gold medal one never forgets.

Pre-K: It was a balmy spring evening. I was drinking a small gin and tonic and stuffing larks' cheeks with jamon iberico when my butler brought me the letter on a silver tray.

St. Albans: It was cold. I was upstairs having my anus bleached. I snorted a little Bolivian marching powder in celebration.

Yale: I was whipping the new maid a rolled-up copy of Horse and Hounds - there had been an unforgivable incident with a Ming Vase. Weather: overcast, light rain later.

Harvard Law School: the butler found me asleep in the stables after a large dose of ketamine. In my drug-induced fog I could barely take in the good news. I must have slept with half of Mclean in the course of the next week.

hysterical, love it. thanks for the chuckle pp!

[Anonymous]

I was just about to put a noose around my neck and jump off my grandmother's antique chair, when suddenly DH came strolling our airy living room - like a knight in shining armor - to show me the letter of acceptance.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I was just about to put a noose around my neck and jump off my grandmother's antique chair, when suddenly DH came strolling our airy living room - like a knight in shining armor - to show me the letter of acceptance.

What, you didn't preserve the moment to read it together?

[Anonymous]

I was waiting by the front door of my significantly overleveraged house, which has 5 bedrooms in the 20016 zipcode but which has no furniture except in the front room in case someone visits. For the entire month of March, I had taken to wearing Depends Undergarments, so I could stand by the mailbox uninterrupted for the 12 hour window during which mail could conceivably be delivered. Each morning at 7 I donned a suitably WASPy Lilly Pulitzer dress so that if someone from Beauvoir had surveillance cameras on me, I looked appropriately attired for the big moment.

I walked out to the box and looked to see if any of my 20016 neighbors were watching me, and opened it. Inside I saw a fatish white envelope. My heart started to pound frantically, and I remember thinking, "I'm going to freaking ram this up the ass of the March of Dimes if this is some solicitation from them..."

[Anonymous]

Picking my nose. Seriously, I can't remember!

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:Inside I saw a fatish white envelope. My heart started to pound frantically, and I remember thinking, "I'm going to freaking ram this up the ass of the March of Dimes if this is some solicitation from them..."

I truly laughed out loud at this.

Fun thread.

[Anonymous]

My child was being recruited to be an athlete at an Ivy. The coach told her what SAT score she would need to get in. Nowdays - the SAT results are available online before the mailing comes.

My child clicked on the results and didn't say anything so my husband and I were resigned to the fact she probably didn't do well enough. Then, child starting screaming...we still weren't sure if that was a good scream or a bad scream. Turns out it was good - child got the exact SAT score the coach said she would need to get to be on his recruitment list. It was a memorable day First kid in entire family to go to an Ivy.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I was waiting by the front door of my significantly overleveraged house, which has 5 bedrooms in the 20016 zipcode but which has no furniture except in the front room in case someone visits. For the entire month of March, I had taken to wearing Depends Undergarments, so I could stand by the mailbox uninterrupted for the 12 hour window during which mail could conceivably be delivered. Each morning at 7 I donned a suitably WASPy Lilly Pulitzer dress so that if someone from Beauvoir had surveillance cameras on me, I looked appropriately attired for the big moment.

I walked out to the box and looked to see if any of my 20016 neighbors were watching me, and opened it. Inside I saw a fatish white envelope. My heart started to pound frantically, and I remember thinking, "I'm going to freaking ram this up the ass of the March of Dimes if this is some solicitation from them..."

I would think that Depends would significantly lower your DC's chances of being admitted, especially if the tennis mothers believe that you're incontinent, which would - no doubt - be an obstacle during a doubles match.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:I was just about to put a noose around my neck and jump off my grandmother's antique chair, when suddenly DH came strolling our airy living room - like a knight in shining armor - to show me the letter of acceptance.

What, you didn't preserve the moment to read it together?

Yes, we did. Shortly after removing the noose from my neck, I made tea and we sat on the porch reading the acceptance letter together as DC took his riding lesson.

[Anonymous]

It was a Wednesday, because I remember it was Non-Missionary-Position-Sex day, which I dread.

I was helping plan out posters for the Chevy Chase Club's Ladies' Night Out Manolo Blahnik Spring Trunk Show, when I heard my postal carrier screaming as she was being attacked by my neighbor Fay's black lab.
I ran out to see if I could retrieve my mail before any blood got on it. From under my mail lady's writhing body, I saw a large envelope in a stack of rubber-banded mail destined for my house. I lifted one of her calves and retrieved my mail and glided back into the house. What a thrilling moment.

And the trunk show was a smash.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:It was a Wednesday, because I remember it was Non-Missionary-Position-Sex day, which I dread.

I was helping plan out posters for the Chevy Chase Club's Ladies' Night Out Manolo Blahnik Spring Trunk Show, when I heard my postal carrier screaming as she was being attacked by my neighbor Fay's black lab.
I ran out to see if I could retrieve my mail before any blood got on it. From under my mail lady's writhing body, I saw a large envelope in a stack of rubber-banded mail destined for my house. I lifted one of her calves and retrieved my mail and glided back into the house. What a thrilling moment.

And the trunk show was a smash.

Excellent!