I thought my life was so
ordinary that I wrote my sixth-grade autobiography about my cousin Jenny.
In class we all hand bound our autobiographies, and I gave mine to my parents
for their anniversary. My dad took it as a sure sign I would get into Yale.
This Yale thing was a big deal to him, because we were the only Jewish family
in the world who could become fourth-generation-Yale in this century. Dad
figured that out. It was all up to me, and my little brother, Marc.
Marc and I felt no presssure, though, because in our eyes
everyone went to Yale. So at night, while our parents worked until 9:30,
Marc and I would completely ignore our homework. We'd order out pizza or
Chinese food for dinner, and read the "Britannica" until
someone came home to tell us to go to bed.
After a while I noticed that the kids in school who had a lot to talk about
all talked about TV. I told my parents I needed a TV. Mom told me to call
an electronics store and have them deliver one. This was the type of thing
the spare Visa card in the kitchen drawer was good for. The TV came right
away, but I never remembered to take it out of the box.
Mom Says To Aim For A Nice Arc | Once
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