nostalgia

Yesterday my female roommate and I went to Hooper's to watch the Rose Bowl, which my pop was watching in person in California. The night before he and his buddies sought out a watering hole (no!) and were approached by a Badger-clad woman.

"Are you the guys that had the mud-wrestling party?"

Of course.

"I broke my leg there!" and she reached for her phone to call a mutual friend who had broken her tail bone at the same event.

My mother was telling me this exchange, giggling.

me: I wish I was that cool in college...
mom, boastful: We went through five half-barrels on Erin Street at one of our parties. You never had any keggers at your apartment?
me: no...
mom: Oh. [Clearly disappointed in me.] Sore-y!

not.

For a writing class I had to write an I-Search paper and chose the question What were my parents like in college? Raucous research conducted at a reunion ski trip yielded an entertaining write, and read. But the missing conclusion:

Way cooler than me.