Well, my interview this afternoon went well. They love love loved me and offered me a million dollars to come and work for them, 25 hours a week, and they said they'd send a limo to pick me up every morning. Oh, and dental. They have dental.
AN ASTONISHING RANGE OF STYLES AND EMOTIONS ON DISPLAY
Viva: Yuck, yuck! Aaaaaahhh!
Sweet W: What's the matter?
Viva: Yuck, there's something in my mouth. It's yucky!
Sweet W: What did you put in there?
Mama Blah [drawn by the screaming]: Is it something you ate?
Viva: Aaaah, yuck! Phtheh! Phtheh! [trying to spit it out]
Mama Blah: What IS it? Is it from something that you ate?
Viva: No, it's from when I threw up in my mouth a little bit.
My Lakers have really pulled it together in the last month or so, particularly in the postseason, and while I don't want to jinx them, it looks like they may actually beat the Suns in their best-of-7 playoff series. Sunday's game practically gave me heart failure, and I'm hoping tonight will be a little easier on me. If the Lakers do pull this off, they will next have to go head-to-head with the Clippers, which will be frickin' fantastic. It ain't over 'til it's over, but here's hoping.
Oh, and since I am sure Kobe reads this blog: congrats on the new baby! The Blah Blahs' silver rattle from Tiffany's is on its way! And let me just add, how weird is this? Kobe's wife and Shaq's wife each gave birth only six minutes apart. On different coasts. Stranger than strange.
So, the place where I interviewed today? Is a non-profit agency that provides assistance to low-income families and the like? And among the many many services they offer is parenting education?
So I arrive today for my interview, walking up briskly in my totally conservative conform-to-all-they-tell-you-about-job-interviews suit, and as I approach the building, I can't help but notice a small (maybe fifteen-month-old?) toddler lying with his face pressed against the filthy sidewalk, screaming his head off. His mother (presumably) was standing with a stroller under a tree, a couple of yards away, watching him expressionlessly as he screamed and threw the Giantest Tantrum in the World, Ever, and the sidewalk (filthy!) underneath his face was wet with tears. And I know people who lives in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, but my house is not actually glass, you see, it's acrylic. And while I have read that you should basically let your kid have his/her tantrum and not intervene, I have to say that if a matter of hygiene is involved, I don't think it's a bad idea to pick your kid up off the filthy (filthy!) sidewalk, regardless of how much more pissed off it makes your kid.
At any rate, I went inside, had the receptionist page my interviewer, was welcomed and taken upstairs to a meeting room, and sat and waited for the interview to commence -- and I could still hear the kid screaming. Maybe, as with me, the mailman's jerkin' him 'round and put his million dollar check in someone else's box. Or maybe he just wants something deep fried and covered in chocolate. Life's hard out there for a toddler. But I do hope his (presumed) mother was able to find some measure of assistance on this trip.
As for me, I'm off to go pick up my own little armload of joy. Peace out.