Working Man

According to family lore on hubby's side, his first audible words were: "Working man." He was staring out the window at the time, presumably watching men work. His first words were plenty prophetic. He started working as soon as he could, parking cars, doing whatever it took to earn money to pay for important stuff like fast cars, wine and women. Or maybe just his first Volvo and a nice case of Chateau du Westwood Village. I'll have to do some fact-checking and get back to you. Some years back, don't ask me how many, I'm not good at math, the eldest son became a working man, too. And today, the youngest son becomes a working man, as well. He is officially employed, people. His internship days are over. No more of that run-and-get-you-coffee kaka. I am officially kvelling on his behalf. I've offered to drive him, but he has denied my request. I'm a little hurt, but at some point, I'll get over it. I'll have to get back to you on that, too.