I found this in Justin’s backpack. Clearly, he’s put some thought into this!
While driving to school three weeks ago, Justin asked me a question: “Daddy? Does mommy have a boss?” I replied, “Yes, she has a boss.” After a few moments, he asked a follow-up question: “Daddy, do you have a boss?” I replied, “No, buddy. I don’t have a boss. I am the boss.” His eyes got very wide as he repeated, “You’re the boss?!?!?!” (I wasn’t sure if I should have been offended or not, but I just accepted it for what it was.)
As I looked in the rearview mirror, I could see him processing the information. I could also hear him mumble to himself, “Daddy is the boss” a few times – as if saying it out loud would make the concept more acceptable. And then, that was the end of the conversation. Or so I thought…
Last week (once again on the way to school), Justin stated, “Daddy, I need to talk to you.” I lowered the radio and gave him my full attention. “Ok buddy, what’s up?”
“Daddy, I think you need to get a real job.” I smiled and replied, “But I have a real job.”
“No, daddy. You need a REAL job.”
I was curious to see where he was going with this, so I asked. “What’s a real job?”
Clearly, he had given this a great amount of thought since our last conversation. “Daddy, I think you need to work in a restaurant or a coffee shop.”
I’m assuming that my new guidance counselor came to this conclusion because I make him a tasty breakfast every morning while complaining that I can’t get my morning coffee hot enough.
It also quickly dawned on me that this line of questioning was coming from somewhere. I couldn’t figure out if this had become a topic in the classroom or if during recess the kids were asking each other “What does your mommy and daddy do?” I know many of the parents from Justin’s school. One is a dentist, another is a writer for a television show, one is a coach and a teacher, and another sells houses. I think these were easier concepts for Justin to understand than “Daddy is a Talent Manager.”
I tried to give Justin the simplest explanation I could think of. “Well Justin, my job is to help other people get jobs.” After a few moments of silence, Justin decided that my answer was not acceptable. “No daddy. You need a REAL job.”
I mockingly gave up. “Ok buddy. I’ll go get a real job.”
I hope he remembers this exact conversation when he’s 16 and it’s time for him to get his first job. I’m sure he’ll enjoy his REAL job of asking people, “Do you want fries with that?”