Time to Get Crackin'

My parents left for Atlanta this morning to go to the UPCI's Black Evangelism Conference. I wanted to go, but extenuating circumstances prevented my attending. Later on this afternoon, my mom called me excitedly on her cell.

Mom: Chantell! You won't believe who I ran into!
Me: Ummm, someone I know?
Mom: Yeah, guess who it is!
Me: Ummm, a friend of mine?
Mom: Yes.
Me: Ummm, a a girl friend or a guy friend?
Mom: (clearly relishing this little game) A guy friend.
Me: Is the guy friend my age?
Mom: Uh, no . . .
Me: Mom, just tell me who it is.
Mom: I met Professor Beardsley!
Me: Beardsley? Really? That's pretty cool. I didn't know Beardsley was going to the Black Conference. That's awesome.

Beardsley was my brilliant professor at UGST. My mom went into the story of how she ran into him and how she met his dad and his kid, yadda, yadda. I thought it was pretty cool. But then she said, "And I was telling him how you wanted to come but weren't able to and how you're going to be so sorry you missed seeing him and then he said, 'Yeah, she has a paper due for me in about two weeks. No ifs, ands or buts about it.'"

Yipe! Beardsley is awesome and a great guy, but he is no joke. Perhaps it was best that I didn't go and run into him and possibly have had to admit that I haven't started writing the paper yet. I will take my parents' running into him as a nudge from Providence telling me it's time to get crackin'. Yea, Lord.