Dropping out

Dinner with my parents. Just before the desert, the usual interrogation starts. “So, darling, when are you getting your university diploma?”

I take a deep breath and make my announcement. I do not plan to graduate. Instead, I’m going to culinary school.

My mother faints. My father is amused.

After an act that resembles a CPR and the chocolate cake I have baked for desert, my mother looks at me. Doesn’t say anything but her face has disappointment written all over it. At this point I have completed my curriculum and all I have to do to graduate is write my thesis. I can’t even drop out properly.

I guess this is why my mom is disappointed.