I got played. By an eighteen-year old. An eighteen-year old who was out to prove a point. Navigating college applications, acceptance and rejection letters, scholarships and financial aid has been the bane of my existence for months now. Since the day the boy was born I’ve had dreams and ambitions for him that didn’t necessarily mesh with the dreams and aspirations he had for himself. And that was okay because I was the MOMMY and I knew best and Mommy’s word was law. There were three colleges the boy felt would be an ideal fit for him and his goals, all of them top notch institutions that any parent would be proud to have their child attend. Knowing my son as well as I thought I did I felt only one of them would truly be the ideal. As fate and the college-gods would have it, he was rejected by two and accepted by his Mommy’s first choice. Not only was he accepted but he received a substantial five-figure academic scholarship toward some extremely high out-of-state tuition. His Mommy’s