This morning, while I began Stage 3 of Passover Prep, or what I like to call the "Origami Mommy Phase," during which I attempted to get creative with paper napkins, and the results were rudimentary at best...
On the other side of the wall, the overnight guest, aka the youngest son, recently downsized from his music job at Fox, a cruel turn of events he's handling like an mensch, combed the web for similar employment opportunities in Los Angeles. To keep him motivated, I sang a bluesy tune: "She's an Origami Mommy/A napkin-foldin' Swami." To keep me from singing, he called out the exciting career options that popped up on Glassdoor:
"I think I've found the job I've been waiting for, Ma."
"Tell me."
"Worship Assistant at a Lutheran church."
"I forbid you from converting."
"Closing Crew at Free Birds Burritos."
"Next."
"Medical Billing Specialist at a Mental Health Center."
"You could probably get me a nice discount when I check in for a little rest."
"I could be a pizza/salad chef at Oliva."
"Well, we know the owner. That's a slam-dunk."
"Studio manager at Duff's Cake Mix."
"If I knew you were coming I'd have baked a cake."
"Van driver."
"Honey, I think you need to narrow your search."
"You're right, Ma. I don't think there's much room for growth."
"I'd have to agree."
"Although, the burrito position sounds promising."
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