Who’s working for whom?
So, did I get the “whom” thing right? I think I missed that day in Grade IV, which took place in two provinces and left other holes in my education. Anyhow, that’s not the point. Today I had the new experience of being a client while my son was working.
It’s not “first job” time, and I’m not a father who hovers. Neither was my father, nor my grandfather, so this may be a genetic trait, for those who believe that everything has a reason. Nor is it my first child to have a job. I just don’t believe in hanging around, pretending that it’s “Bring Dad to Work Day”. My role is more along the lines of taxi-dad, or nag-dad. Although reminding a son that the time has come to get a job, keep a job or go to said job should never be tagged as nagging. Rather, think of it as self-preservation.
Son #2 has entered the retail industry, as a bagger in the supermarket just across the way. Has a fancy apron and all. I’ll not promote him to grocer just yet. Some day, when he has been suitably debriefed, and I’ve perused the manual that came home on the first afternoon, I’ll try to put some flesh on the skeleton (I’m distracted by the TV, where some movie with a fiery skeleton on a motor bike is being webwatched in ten-minute capsules). Good soundtrack, in passing.
But my trip to buy food this evening did not see me lined up in his aisle. Time to wonder why. Well, there was a shorter line where I was served, and I’m not sure of the cost effectiveness in having him bag his own food. A bit of careful analysis with a spreadsheet may be necessary. The truth is that I felt rather self-conscious, and decided to take the easy way out. The public story will remain: Who’s working for whom?
