The Superteen decided recently that as he was approaching 'employable' age, he would like to put his name down for a few casual, after-school-pocket-money-type jobs.
I was hesitant to agree at first as he has such a full life with school and sport already and I was sure that somehow this job thing would probably mean more work and running around for my already full life!
It appears, however, that he has convinced me. A few weeks ago, he sat and registered himself on numerous web sites belonging to companies that employ high school students for casual work.
I didn't think much of it when he got a couple of notices about job vacancies, although I did help him write a resume - what type of resume can you really write for a never-employed semi-child? And I stoically drove him along to a couple of interviews so that he could get a real feel for what he was getting himself in for.
I can now tell you that he was actually offered both of the jobs that he interviewed for!
The Superteen is incredibly excited. He is especially thrilled at the prospect of his having his own money which he can use to expand his ever-growing shoe collection (And they say that women are into fashion!!! Not when you are a Nike fan, apparently!).
Yes, I am excited for him. But, like any parent, I worry that about so many things: his ability to handle the responsibility that comes with gainful employment, his ability to juggle school, sport and work, his ability to manage his own meagre income, his ability to remain a fairly sensible kid even though he is now 'cashed up', etc etc etc.
But I think the thing that really gets to me is even simpler than that. It's the fact that I no longer have a child. The child that sprang, screaming, from my womb only a few short years ago is now suddenly someone else's employee! Ok, I know that I've watched him grow into a six foot tall teenager, but deep down, he is still that little baby who looked soulfully into my eyes almost from birth and who I vowed to protect and adore. No longer is that boy under my total care. Now he is making decisions without me and now I have to let him.
It's times like these that I wish they came with a manual!
