Does that make me old? I have a son that is old enough to work and I'm not just talking mowing lawns here, which incidentally I would never trust him doing.
I'll be 32 on the 29th of August. My son, J, is 15. Tomorrow morning he'll be waking his groggy teenaged butt up at 6am to head off to his first day of big boy work. Watching him get up that early will be fun in itself.
Oh yeah. I so can't wait to hear of his first day as he spends 8 hours working in a hot, stuffy, bakery kitchen at Wisconsin's State Fair.
Work. Welcome to the real world my son. Yes, welcome indeed.
Now maybe he'll think twice before complaining that he just might have to pick up his own shoes, put the milk away and feed that cat he had to have and would always care for. He's had it easy until now. Oh, and I have a feeling he'll be a bit more conservative with his wants, you know, since he gets to pay for them now.
His mind is already reeling with all the wonderful ways to spend his money. Young naivete produces the belief that there will be many things his money can buy when earning $6 an hour. Oh, the look on his face when he see's what he will actually bring home after Social Security takes its cut.
Can you sense my grin?
Do stay tuned for that picture.