We wake up to a monsoon. This is no exaggeration. Within 24 hours, a state of emergency will be declared as rivers flood and roads are shut. Between the four of us we have exactly one umbrella. Nevertheless, the touring must go on. We huddle as we make our way to the car. Okay, the moms huddle – we are bigger, older, and have hair issues. Our daughters, needless to say, are not amused. We join at least 50 other people at the first college, Brown, where we trudge through puddles that looks suspiciously like lakes. Nevertheless, the tour is packed. It’s spring break and every junior on the east coast is touring. And, it seems, every junior on the east coast wants to go to Brown. Hell, I wanted to go to Brown. I joke to my daughter that we are visiting every college that rejected me. She looks at me skeptically, hoping this is not an inherited trait along with my inability to carry a tune. I’m not worried. She is smarter, a better student and more ambitious than I was at her age. I had, uh, other interests. She is, though, very forgetful, and has left her medication at home. I spend half the day trying to track down her doctor to call a refill in to a local pharmacy. It appears the 60-something doctor is also on Spring Break – in the Bahamas. My daughter cannot understand why I am upset. “At least it wasn’t my cell phone,” she says.
Day Two – The Monsoon