Take this Job and Love It

D1 wants a job. Like most people, money is her motivation. The other day I took her and her friend down to the local car wash. She heard they hire 14 year-olds, so we decided to start early in the search for summer employment.

With D1 in the front seat and her friend in the back, I drove them down the street while coaching them on what to say, what not to say, and how to stand, and how to smile, and who to ask for, and all other things pertinent to this life changing occasion.

When we arrived, I sat out in the car while she and her friend ventured inside to the office. A few short minutes later they emerged with white paper forms in their hands, explaining the manager was not in so they were to fill out the paperwork and return another time.

As we drove home, D1 reviewed the two-page generic employment application. After a minute she turned around to face the back seat.

"I hope they don't put me inside and make me do the books," she told her friend, "I hate paperwork."

Her friend nodded silently, barely looking up as she reviewed her own paperwork.

"Hmmm..." D1 continued a bit concerned after scanning the application further.

"I really hope they don't ask me to manage sales. That would be so boring," she concluded.

A Picture's Worth Three Words

One of my necklaces has a photo holder charm, inside of which I have a small picture of DH. The photo was taken on vacation, and with his relaxed face framed with an uncommon-for-him and slightly sexy goatee, the picture has become one of my favorites.

Tonight when I leaned over to zip D3's pajamas, she spotted the necklace and shouted in surprise,

"Is that Dad?"

"Yes," I confirmed, "Isn't he cute?"

"No!" she exclaimed while looking at me like I had just suggested she drive the car.

"I'm cute," she emphatically corrected.

Folks, it Doesn't Get Much Worse Than This

This afternoon my cell phone rang.

"Hello, Tonia!" I answered my neighbor's call energetically, after noticing the caller id.

"Mom, it's me, "D2 clarified.

"Why are you calling?" I asked.

"D3's ears are hurting her. I think it is because you never clean them and now they are all dirty inside."

"Ok, I'll come right home," I promised, as I began to wonder what my neighbor thinks about babies with dirty ears.

"And why are you calling me from Tonia's house anyway," I mistakenly inquired before she had a chance to hang up.

"You never paid our phone bill, so all our cell phones were shut off today," she shouted, although no one ever has any trouble hearing her at her normal volume.

"All right then. Thanks, Sweetie," I mumbled as I pushed the receiver closer to my ear hoping no one around me could hear her.

"So you're coming home? And you are going to look at D3's dirty ears?"

"Yes. Love."

"And you'll pay the phone bill and get our phones turned back on?" she repeated.

"Of course, Sweetie," I replied.

Then I listened to D2 hang up. I imagined my neighbor kindly smiling as D2 handed the borrowed phone (one with a paid-up bill) back to her and then I expect she gently walked D2 and her little sister with the dirty ears to the her front door, all the while full of pity for the neglected little ones.