My trip to Notre Dame

Last week, I took a trip to the most glorious place on Earth. No, it wasn't Disney World, you churls. Don't even get me started on that monstrosity that they call a mascot.

That thing really puts me in a state of nervous restlessness.

Anyway, like I was saying, I went to the most glorious place on Earth: The University of Notre Dame. It was pretty much the best trip ever. The day started with a walk around campus. My mom pointed out important places like Knott Hall (where my mom and dad met), Keough Hall (where my dad busted skulls as an assistant rector), Cavanaugh Hall (where my dad led the Cavanaugh Chaos to victory after victory in flag football), the Basilica (where my mom and dad got married), Notre Dame Stadium (there is too much to put into a parenthetical here), and the Golden Dome (below).

Oh yeah, we saw my cousin Lauren too.

Then it was off to the Admissions Office to talk about my application for admission into the 2026-27 incoming freshman class. I've reproduced a transcript of that interview below.

Lucy: Good afternoon. I'm here for my interview with Mr. Dan Saracino.

Secretary: Um. Is he expecting you?

Lucy: He should be. He's had my application since July of last year.

Secretary: If you don't mind me asking ...

Lucy: Please. Go ahead.

Secretary: Well, you're, uh, a baby.

Lucy: That's really more an observation than a question. But yes. I'm a baby.

Secretary: How old are you?

Lucy: Four months.

Secretary: And Mr. Saracino has had your application since July?

Lucy: Ah. I see what you're getting at. I didn't have much to do in the womb, so I figured I'd get a jump on this admissions stuff.

Secretary (picking up phone): Mr. Saracino? There's a talking baby here to see you. Ok, I'll send her in. (turns to Lucy) Mr. Saracino will see you now. Do you, uh, need me to carry you in?

Lucy: That would be super.

(Secretary picks up Lucy and carries her into Dan Saracino's office.)

Dan: Lucy! It's a pleasure to meet you.

Lucy: The feeling is mutual, Mr. Saracino. Let me just start off by saying that I'm thrilled to be getting this process started early on. Getting early admission would really take the pressure off and I could just enjoy pre-school without worrying about college.

Dan: Well, I certainly appreciate your tenacity. But, I have to say, it would be highly unorthodox for us to admit a student who is not even a year old yet.

Lucy: I understand your concerns, but let me assure you that I would be an asset to the Class of 2030. I'm a natural leader, I'm an independent thinker, and I learned to talk almost as soon as I was born. Really, I'm the complete package.

Dan: But you're still a baby.

Lucy (narrows her eyes): Dan, I would really hate to label what you're saying as discriminatory. I really would. But that's what it sounds like to me. And I know the University strives to eliminate all forms of prejudice. And, I wasn't going to mention this, Dan. I really wasn't. But I have an open line of communication with the top administrators here at Notre Dame. I would really hate to let Fr. Jenkins know that he is employing an age-ist. The University has already been run through the ringer on that one once. Does the name Joe Moore mean anything to you, Dan?

Dan (stuttering): Well, of course I know that story. But I hardly see how that applies-

Lucy (cuts him off): You may not see, but I assure you that the media will. I'm not asking for a lot, Dan. Just give me my admissions letter. It's not like I don't deserve it.

Dan (realizes he's beaten and slowly picks up the phone): Jane, please print off an admission letter for the Class of 2030. Yes. 2030. I'll sign it in here.

Lucy: Have her bring in one of those stuffed Notre Dame bears too. And a new rattle.

Dan: And Jane? Be a dear and run over to the Bookstore. Pick up a a stuffed animal or two for the newest member of the class of 2030 here.

Lucy: And a rattle.

Dan (to Jane): And a rattle.