Just finished volunteering in Bon's class. Nothing like having your life choices attacked by 6 year olds.
Leora: are you going to work now?
Me: no, I'm going home
L: but what about your job?
Me: I don't have a job.
Evan: YOU DON'T HAVE A JOB???
L, looking poleaxed: But what do you do for work? What is your job???
Me: my job is being Bonnie's mom.
L: yeah but what is your REAL job?
I wasn't going to get into a philosophical discussion of how all parents' "real" job is being a parent and that some have paid employment as well while some don't.
E: does your dad have a job? I mean, Bonnie's dad.
Me: yes, he works
E: but why don't you???
Didn't feel like the time or appropriate audience to explain why tom and I made the choices we made before I was even pregnant.
Me: because I don't have to.
At this point, they were looking at me like I was an exotic creature from deep space, something maybe interesting but mostly bizarre. I stared back, waiting to see what was coming next.
Finally, Leora: only really old people don't work.
Me: well, I guess I'm old. Let's clean up the sawdust now. (We were making particle board.)
By their standards, I'm really old. Does this mean I can get the senior citizens' discount at Kohls? That would be SWEET.
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