Not Quite the First Day at Uni

27 February 2012, Monday

It was a most anticipated event. GI's first day at uni. He's had his time table for weeks. He'd packed away his year 12 papers. He'd beefed up his wardrobe a little. I even made sure I got him the concession travel ten bus ticket. With his lab classes starting next week, instead of this week, he only had one lecture class to attend from 6-7:30 pm. We had agreed that I'd meet him at his campus after class and we'd take the bus home together. Any other week after this would mean he'd be heading home at 9pm on Monday nights.

GI took the bus from our place at 4:40pm. He expected the ride to take about an hour and he'd have at least 15 minutes to spare to get to his first and only class. Thirty minutes into the bus ride, he checked in with MacGyver to say that he figured he was doing good time and wouldn't be late. Unfortunately soon after than, traffic was at a stand still and the bus was at the same spot (or literally moving at snail's pace) for the next two hours!

He sent me a text message before 6pm to say he believed there was an accident because he was only halfway to the city. We had naturally concluded that there was no way he could make it his class on time.

At 7:20pm, he called to say that he was on the Harbour Bridge. I told him we'd meet at the Town Hall stop which was right across my office building. By the time we met each other, he'd been on the bus for about three hours, and needless to say, he'd missed his class.

We walked around for a while because GI didn't want to go from one bus ride to another. I offered to treat him out for dinner but he settled for large fries from McDonald's.

I wanted to give him a quick tour of the Queen Victoria Building but by then the giant clock had rang eight times. It was 8pm. All the stores were closed, the stairwell was blocked and the elevators were off.

I asked GI if he needed to go for a pit stop before heading home but he said that he had gone before he left home. (Oh, to be young and to have a strong bladder. Those were the days. Yes, it's entirely possible that those days were the days that GI could still enter the Ladies Room with me.)

How fast time flies.

I can still remember the 5-year old GI crying when I arrived late at Don Bosco to pick him up because they had been dismissed early. Now he's all of 18 and going off to college.

We headed for home, me and my not-so-baby GI, on his not quite first day at uni.

[Did I mention that the first thing he showed me when we met at the city was that he'd had his left ear pierced? So it begins .... ]