Growing and Stretching

Son #1 turned 15 yesterday. Eek that means the mom feels one step away from fossil. :-)

He had the good fortune to be recruited, along with a handful of other ninth grade honors English students, for part time work at a law firm in town, to replace some of their helpers who are graduating from high school this week. We got him a "work wardrobe" consisting of a few pairs of khakis, brown slip-ons, appropriate dress socks, and a handful of short sleeve collared shirts. This Monday was his first training session. He's great on paper -- hence his fantastic grades -- but shy with people, so we were coaching him as to the types of questions to ask (such as how much the job pays!) and to ask questions as a rule.

So off he went. Rode his bike the couple of miles into town and locked the bike to a pole across the sidewalk, on the same side of the street. Training session went great, but I got a call from him when he finished work to say that his bike was gone. Sigh. This wasn't an expensive bike, and he'd kind of outgrown it...but still...he was upset...and what kind of lousy character would steal a kid's bike?

Anyway, I encouraged him to go back in and tell his supervisor about it, and I'd talk to him in a little while. He worked out a better arrangement for a safer place to lock up another bike when he'd gotten one (which we took care of via Craig's List that evening, yippee) and got a very kind offer for a ride home from one of the partners. After dinner I drove him over to the police precinct where he filed a report. Afterwards I explained to him that he'd be looking to get his learner's permit to drive a car in another year, and sooner or later Murphy's Law would dictate that he'd be involved in an accident...so this was good experience.

I hope that, sometime soon, my son will be more comfortable seeking these opportunities to stretch his skill set instead of relying on suggestions from Mama and Papa Bear. In the blink of an eye he'll be entering college, with any luck on scholarship, and he can't be calling us seventeen times a day to ask about trifles. My poor kids don't like it when I tell them that Mom and Dad will be dead someday and they have to start learning to do things themselves. :-)