#1 finally got a summer job. In New Mexico. He's going to Philmont, the Boy Scout camp. He wanted to be a wrangler, but the jobs were filled by the time he applied. However, the HR guy loved his resume. He called here several times today, and told me that there were lots of openings left, and that he really wanted #1 to come and work for him.
When #1 got back from buying new running shoes, I asked him to return all of the phone calls. He was delighted - he really wanted to go and ride horses for a living this summer. He was a bit disappointed when I told him that all of the horse-related jobs had been filled. So, he called.
The conversation, from my end, went like this:
#1: "So, do I get to interact with the campers at all? Oh, good."
...listens...
#1: "So, how many hours a day? Really? Great! And the rest of the day is free? Wow!"
Hmmm. I thought that sounded promising. Ok, there are going to be girls his age working there, too, and he is going to be spending a large part of each day wearing his cowboy hat and all. Still...
I asked him what job he'd gotten as soon as he hung up. He was almost hopping up and down from excitement.
"Mama, guess what? I get to be a cook! For the permanent staff dining room!"
#1 cooks passably well. Meals here and there. For five. Including three who feel that any dish with the words "hot dog" in the name can be called fine dining. But, feeding full time staff, formal dining room? Uh-oh.
"But wait till you hear the really good part!" he said. The kid was almost ecstatic. In fact, I could hardly wait to hear the really good part about cooking.
"I get to cook for 18 to 20 people at each meal. I only have to cook three meals a day. And the really great part is, the rest of the day is free time!"
Seriously? Cooking three hot meals a day for 20 people and after that, no work? I should buy him a chaise longue. Heck, I should buy two and keep one for myself!
So, he leaves on Wednesday and will drive down with Helen's #4. Hilarity shall ensue.
