Thank heavens he's back on campus

Despite the fact that expenditures loom on the horizon and the country is at the dawn of a great recession, we Clinches have had a very expensive week, and I wonder how we could let so much cash go without considering the ramifications.

Our only defense is that it all started without our knowledge. It was almost as if we were blindsided, star struck and (in the words of our 14-year-old son) bamboozled.

Truth is, we were financially intact, had our ducks in a row and our portfolio diversified right up until the moment that our son, Vernon, pulled up to the curb, and in doing so caused us to lose all sense of monetary reason.

As is the nature of the college kid as he returns to the lair of the poor idiots who raised him, Vernon climbed out of his SUV sporting an award-winning smile. His brothers jumped for joy and ran out to greet him saying, "Vernon's here! He's really here!" and "Good golly, he's truly home!"

Vernon couldn't have looked more like a movie star and we wouldn't have been more in awe if the paparazzi had been lurking about. He was met with hugs and enthusiasm and moments of elation as the kids let go of balloons and the dog leaped in the air to join in the celebration.

That was the cheap part.

Yes sir, things didn't get pricey until Vernon actually walked into the house, set down his Oakley sunglasses and kicked off his Birkenstocks.

As everyone ran about fetching him mineral water and tending to his needs, Vernon looked at his father and me and said with all of the love that he could muster, "Hey, guys, I'm a little thin in the wallet. Could you spot me some cash?"

Who would ever have thunk that right in the middle of the rum cakes and rare-roast-beast that our college boy would return for the holidays and be under the impression that he was from a well-to-do family with an unlimited supply of liquid assets.

Since he was sporting golf clothes and a smile that appeared to have enjoyed a recent whitening session, Vernon certainly didn't play the part of a vagrant well.

"What do you mean that you're thin in the wallet?" his father asked with a hard swallow.

"Well, for one thing, the gas to get here wasn't cheap and I treated Olson to a cheeseburger on the way so if you could compensate me for that debt, that would be great. I've also bought myself a few Christmas presents that I thought you could reimburse me for and I won't even charge you for the time that it took me to go and get them."

Some might have slapped a kid around for dropping a financial burden on a family like that. But it was Christmas and as is the way of the giving season, we felt that this was our time to be charitable.

But that wasn't the half of it. Suddenly Vernon wanted to take his brothers out on the town and who better to treat than the parents.

He collected $20 from his father, hit me up for $10 and we found out later that he had the boys chip in for their own meal.

There was the money we gave him to go to the mall, the joy of buying him new jeans and the ultimate thrill of purchasing him a slick pair of expensive Keen socks — so that his shoes could really enjoy his feet.

We met his dietary needs with organic vegetables, financed his love of good shampoo and indulged him with a trip to both the optometrist and the dentist.

When Christmas morning rolled around, he presented us all with gifts and a small bill. Huey owed him for grandpa's gift, Lawrence had yet to chip in on the present to his father, Little Charlie was still in arrears with my birthday present and Vernon was all but threatening him with collection.

As he climbed into his car and prepared to return to college, we bid him farewell with hugs and tears. "How much do you suppose he set us back?" I asked as he drove away.

"Enough," replied my dear husband, "that we should consider going to the government and asking them to bail us out."

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch. com.