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I never graduated.
There. I've said it.
I went to Manchester Polytechnic from 1982 to 1985, but buggered up my degree, and failed the final year. And neither of my brothers attended university, so I've never attended a graduation ceremony.
Until today.
Everyone reading this knows (or should know) that I'm on very good terms with Laura, Phil's mum. We're still technically married, but we separated four years ago this month, and we refer to each other as the ex-, so if you catch me using the expression, that's why. Anyway, after we split up, Laura went to University, taking up the academic cudgel, and a few weeks ago, we discovered that she'd been awarded her degree: she will today be graduating as BA (Hons) Early Childhood Studies.
She's worked incredibly hard for the degree and deserves the recognition.
Philip and I are incredibly proud of her achievement, and on a personal note (as the bloke who proofread so many of her assignments, and her dissertation), it's been a genuine pleasure to see her writing mature over the past few years, and to see her gain confidence in her own abilities in the field.
Mazeltov, Laura!
(I'll stick some pics up when I get them later.)
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