So Sam was searching colleges online, looking for ones with good history departments. He found one in Vermont or New Hampshire, one of the two. It doesn't matter.
Me, "So Sam found a college in <which ever state>. Apparently it has a good history department. I don't like it."
John, "It's not a problem. We can work it out for whatever college he chooses."
Me, "No, that's not what I mean. It's too far away. So I explained that if he picks a school in California or at least on the west coast, then he can come home whenever he wants because he'll be a car-ride or train-ride away. If he picks a school on the east coast, or really even the midwest, then we're talking plane rides so he probably would only be able to come home at Christmas."
John, "What? You told him that?"
Me, "I was just being realist..."
John, "Oh my g...I'll go talk to him."
Me, "What???"
Oh, sure. I'm the bad guy. I waited 16 years before intentionally dismantling one of his dreams. 16 years! I deserve a medal.
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