Editor's Note: This week's column is written by Michael Jenkins, Rob's son.
I've been waiting a long time for this moment -- 13 years, to be exact -- and finally here it is: I am a senior. The reality of it hit me the other day when I noticed an AARP card in the mail addressed to me, Mr. Jenkins.
Oh, wait, that was probably meant for my dad.
Regardless of the fact that I am not a senior citizen, like my wonderful and ancient parents, I am about to enter into my senior year of high school. So yes, I am a senior, just without the benefit of 20 percent off my meals and free power scooters.
And as a senior, I am faced with the realization that this is it. After this year I am done with high school forever -- even though, honestly, I was kind of emotionally done with high school after last year.
So what makes the senior year of high school different from any other year of school? I tend to think there are several factors, the first being the prestigious title of "senior" itself.
It's kind of like a get out of jail free card. I can now get away with so much simply by saying, "Oh, I'm a senior." If I cut in line, it's because I'm a senior. I've waited four years to get at the front of that line. If I knock a kid over in the hallway, it's because I'm a senior. It's my hallway now, anyway. Heck, it's my school.
Now I just need to convince the administration to rename the school after me: Michael View High School. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? I mean, I would definitely go there.
OK, so maybe that won't go over too well with the administration, but luckily in my four years I've befriended the administrators enough to know which ones are more likely to be susceptible to my charms. Yes, all those hours in the principal's office are finally paying off. Just don't tell my parents.
But the best part of being a senior is the freshmen, and I don't mean dating them. That would be creepy. (Note to my friends who are dating freshmen girls: it really is kind of creepy.)
What I'm talking about is how freshmen react to seeing a senior. This is a phenomenon I have observed every year of high school: freshmen treat any encounter with a senior as a cross between seeing the face of Zeus and simultaneously being attacked by a dinosaur. They just freeze up and don't move.
I can't wait to have that magical aura surrounding me, especially since my younger brother is going to be a freshman this year. For him especially I need to work on my Zeus and dinosaur impressions. Maybe I'll ask my parents. They're probably old enough to have encountered a few dinosaurs in person.
Michael Jenkins is a senior at Mountain View High School in Gwinnett County. Email him in care of his dad at firstname.lastname@example.org.