Pembroke’s Parents
- enter the full bloom of his awkward rebellious phase
- half hidden in a heap of brown leaves
- carry their lunches in clamshells
- college campuses everywhere
- annoyed at the tone taken by the anthropologists
Pembroke’s parents dragged him along on a very long and thorough tour of northeastern universities, convinced they would discover the perfect scholastic garden in which their darling son could enter the full bloom of his awkward rebellious phase under the watchful eye of learned professionals who would keep his intellect from going to seed.
“College campuses everywhere look the same in the fall,” Pembroke grumbled. “They’re all just a bunch of brick buildings surrounding squares of grass half hidden in a heap of brown leaves.” He kicked at a crack in the sidewalk.
Pembroke’s mother did her best to distract him from his sullen mood. “Look Pemmy, the sorority girls here carry their lunches in clamshells! Isn’t that adorable?”
“You sound like a clueless anthropologist, Mom.”
Pembroke’s mother smiled indulgently, but inside she was annoyed at the tone taken by the anthropologists‘ teenage critic.