Jobs

I started babysitting when I was 13 years old. I was thrilled that someone would pay me for playing with children, better yet, for sitting in a quiet house watching TV while children slept. I liked having money. I didn't see a downside to it. So, as Secret has gotten older, I've encouraged him to do some part-time work.

Like almost everything I've tried to persuade him to do, Secret wasn't readily on board. Secret appreciates the finer things in life but was convinced that his parents should provide those things for him. Secret, perhaps operating from the premise that he is the son of an oil sheik, routinely requests things that seem outrageous to us, middle class working stiffs that we are. If Secret sees a commercial for a cruise ship, he begins a campaign that we go on a cruise. If Secret sees an ad for a new route that an airline is establishing (I think the most recent one was Denver to Iceland), he begins a relentless pursuit of a trip there.

Science Girl and I have tried to motivate him by explaining that since we can't (and won't) buy him everything he wants, he should earn his own money and buy it for himself. Last year, a neighbor was looking for a helper for one hour a week, a teen who could play with and occupy her children while she did household chores. Secret was upset that I recommended him for the job. He believed that his hour could be better spent at home playing video games. Math whiz that he is, he also noted that earning an extra $5 a week wouldn't buy him that trip to Iceland. Every week, Secret would return from this one hour of strenuous work, toss the cash on the counter and exclaim that he wouldn't go back the next week. At some point, his child care services were no longer needed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Months later, the same neighbor was seeking someone to take care of their dog while they were out of town. To his great dismay, once again I volunteered Secrets' help. Secret complained about this assignment until Sport said he'd take it over and then he became protective of the work. Meanwhile, Sport wasn't as resistant to work and snagged himself a short gig as a "cat lover" for another neighbor. While that neighbor was out of town, Sports' job was to visit said cat at least twice a day, just to pet him.

In an unusual twist of events, Secret has now heeded my advice to work, becoming an ice hockey referee. Before he could work, we had to buy him a uniform ($100 + $7 for a whistle), skates ($250), a required course ($75) and registration as a referee ($45). This Saturday, in a odd burst of willingness, Secret accepted three assignments of games to officiate. I have to work on Saturday so that leaves Science Girl to spend her entire Saturday driving him in circles around town (starting at 7:00AM and wrapping up at 9:00 PM) to three different rinks. Meanwhile, Sport is planning a career as a cat lover.

I mean well, but somehow, my efforts never turn out the way I envision.