Here’s this week’s Smartmom from Brooklyn Paper.

Smartmom was walking on Lincoln Place when she saw Old Mom Friend walking in the opposite direction. Neither of them paused to say hello at first.

Although Smartmom has always enjoyed their sidewalk conversations, on this particular day she wasn’t sure she was in the mood for what might be an anxiety provoking conversation about college.

Frankly, Smartmom didn’t feel like getting agitated about the future of the tall guy with the low voice and facial hair who lives in the bedroom next door to where she sleeps.

At 16, Teen Spirit is such a work in progress. It’s his life now. A quick review of what he’s been up to doesn’t really express the scope of who he is.

Suddenly, Old Mom Friend stopped in her tracks and turned around. “I haven’t seen you in ages,” OMF said.

“I didn’t recognize you with that big winter hat on,” Smartmom said. It was only partly true.

The conversation went just as Smartmom expected. OMF wanted to know if they’d visited any colleges yet. Smartmom wasn’t sure what to say. The truth is, Teen Spirit, doesn’t even want to talk about college.

OMF wanted to know if Teen Spirit was thinking of applying to music schools.

She wanted to know if he had a list of the schools he’s interested in.

Standing on the corner of Lincoln Place and Seventh Avenue, Smartmom felt the anxiety rise up inside her like acid reflux.

OMF and Smartmom go way back. They used to talk in the backyard of PS 321 when their boys were in the same second grade class with an enchanted teacher named Ian, who taught the class the history of baseball and directed the kids in a play about the subway.

Over the years, they shared anxieties about their sons, their teachers and the curriculum at PS 321. When it came time to apply to middle school, Smartmom remembers many an anguished conversation about that cheerful topic.

Teen Spirit and OMF’s son both attended MS 51, a public middle school on Fifth Avenue. There were few opportunities for the moms to share anxiety anymore. The kids no longer needed their moms to take them to and from school. At the occasional school art show or play, however, Smartmom and OMF would run into each other and have a quick worry fest about something or other.

When the boys were in eighth grade, the moms ran into each other on one of the high school tours and shared plenty of agita as they walked nervously through the hallowed halls of the High School for Telecommunications Arts and Technology.

The boys ended up in different high schools. Two years ago, Smartmom ran into OMF at the Subway sandwich shop on Seventh Avenue, where they yakked about how nervous making it was to have their boys taking the subway alone.

When Smartmom saw OMF the other day she almost kept on walking. It’s not like Smartmom is in denial about all this college stuff. It’s just that, she’s trying to stay calm for as long as possible.

But here in Park Slope, you’re supposed to be ahead of the curve, ready for the next phase, seriously way in advance because…

That means you’re paying attention.

Smartmom and OMF wished each other the best of luck. They were going to need it over the next year or so: college tours, SATs, applications, financial aid, admissions letters.

But most of all: those anxiety provoking conversations on Seventh Avenue.