Lighting $100 bills on fire, just for fun.

The fat envelope from NCS arrived, and DH and I had to leave it unopened on the table because DD had not come home yet and we wanted her to be able to open it.

I was off the florida coastline, watching the mates bring the launch aboard. Bone fishing had been a complete waste of time and now the Marlin seems to have eluded my useless 1st mate. The chef was awful, once again the captain seems to be staffin the boat just based on looks. While I certainly enjoy the effect that has on Muffy, I do want to eat occasionally. In any event, the housekeeper rang up and said the letters had come, and should she open them. God what a cow.

It turns out that yes, the school would be glad to name the new gymnasium after my beloved father, and incidentally, there was no need to ask, they would of course accept Stefan for the year in spite of that unpleasantness with his last school.

So, I rang the bridge and asked the captain to take us over to Necker Island for a few days, by way of the Willie T for just a few days of good fun. The sat phone was getting awful bandwidth and we hadn't been able to download any news reports and I was in a lather over the latest Buffet purchase. Honestly, newspapers? What is he thinking?

Anonymous wrote:

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?

Ancient thread, but PP is obviously not familar with the app process for Beauvoir students to either STA or NCS. If you are a Beauvoir family, you get a call just after Thanksgiving, then a formal accept , yes, in dead of winter Dec 19th ? Its done that way so that familes can enjoy their holiday or, in rare cases, be given adequate notice so that they can still make app deadlines for schools outside the cathedral close.

So, yes, Mom above was preparing to host a Christmas party, and ,no, her kids aren't green.

I was on DCUM telling another mom her first choice school wasn't a "real" private school because it wasn't "elite" enough. I think I may have used the fbomb. Anyway, I heard the thunk of the mailbox door closing, so I added one more eyeroll, like this , and ran for the door. I saw the postman scurrying away -- the USPS are such losers, I'm surprised they didn't misplace it! And there was the fat envelope, squished into the box. It was obvious DS had gotten the nod, so it wasn't worth opening the thing and DH could handle the contract. The best part about the whole thing was returning to that DCUM thread to gloat at the other PP!

Yeah, I remember. I took the envelopes from the friendly mail man who handed them to me and within two minutes I was sitting frozen on my porch, completely numb, with a pit in my stomach. It was worse than when I had my heart broken for first time. Like most familes in DC, this meant that we would have to move or perhaps I would have to find a job in a different city ( one with good public schools)

That is no big deal. Find a new place to live, a different employer, make new friends, get to know a different town. Done.

No what hurt was having my sweet beautiful child rejected at age 4 by anyone. I heard another mother's words echoing in my head " applying to private school was the worst experience of my life"

One of the letters was a WL, and that school called me at work three LONG weeks later. It seemed an accepted family had declined their offer of admission and my DC was in. It happens.

Anonymous wrote:I was polishing my Harvard ring in my great great grandmother's federal-period wing chair. My semi-regular cleaning lady/nanny Lourdes from Guatemala brought in the mail before feeding my three children lunch and taking them to Volta Park for a few hours, the time I needed daily to get important shopping errands done. I was so excited I dropped my Harvard ring and it bounced in the fireplace, and Lourdes had to crawl in and find it.

You left out the part where Lourdes hit her head on the mantle and , lacking health insurance, and barely making a living wage, could not afford proper care.

I came home and walked off the porch into the side door of the house to find my DS standing with DH next to him. DS had a letter in his hand and told me he had gotten into STA. I screamed and fell on the floor.

Masturbating!

Anonymous wrote:Oh yes, I remember. First and foremost, we had been rejected (no, not WL) at the great Beauvoir. So we had started to investigate whether Junior could stay on in his stylish Georgetown preschool for another year. So imagine our shock when Junior, no good for Beauvoir, got a spot at Sidwell. Our immediate thought, was Oops. They mislabelled the address, whose spot have we taken. So we rushed to the school and paid our deposit before they realized. I will never forget that day. Junior surpassed our low expectations.

Awwwww......

bump

Ah yes, the starter children. Why didn't you dump them with your ex?

PP here- Please excuse the typos. I was narrating to my maid (whose spelling and typing skills are clearly below par). I'm going to fire her after she cooks the meal for my toy poodle.

When I found out that ALL 5 of my quintuplets were accpeted to the top 5 most elite DC schools I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing (and how much I weighed).

My beautiful family and I were flying back from Vail on our largest plane. As always, my husband was in the back with the stewardess and I was in the front with the pilot.

I got a call from my butler saying that the mail had just be delivered and we had SIX very think envelopes waiting for us at home.

"Six!?!" I shrieked (as quietly as a could so my quints wouldn't notice my precarious position with the pilot). How was that possible when we only had five perfect children? (the other two are ugly so we leave them at home).

I demanded that the butler bring those letters to me immediately! We arranged for the butler to board our other plane and meet us in Illinois- so we wouldn't have to wait to find out the good news.

As soon as had those letters in my incredibly thin, pale and immaculately manicured hands, I knew that my life (and the lives of five of my seven children) would forever be perfect.

Funnily enough, the sixth letter was to inform us that our prize-winning toy poodle was the ACTUAL winner of the Westminter Kennel Club and not that silly looking Banana Joe mutt.

Oh yes, I remember. First and foremost, we had been rejected (no, not WL) at the great Beauvoir. So we had started to investigate whether Junior could stay on in his stylish Georgetown preschool for another year. So imagine our shock when Junior, no good for Beauvoir, got a spot at Sidwell. Our immediate thought, was Oops. They mislabelled the address, whose spot have we taken. So we rushed to the school and paid our deposit before they realized. I will never forget that day. Junior surpassed our low expectations.