Saturday, January 4, 2014

Let's Hope He Doesn't Wear Cargo Shorts And Flip-Flops

Nothing says, "I'm a professional,"  like a good portfolio. Unfortunately, the #1 son left his portfolio in his dorm room over winter break. And he has an interview in St. Charles on Monday. With our predicted 10-15 inches of snow Saturday night into Sunday, I'm hoping this interview gets rescheduled. It's for a summer job. Surely there's no rush.

He went to oversee the Newmentia Robot Team this morning. No sooner had he shot out of the driveway like a circus human cannonball than he called to see if I had a spare portfolio laying around the Mansion. Does his dad pee in the woods? Of course I had a spare portfolio. I love those things. Unfortunately, my main portfolio, a soft mahogany leather number, has my full name embossed on the lower right corner. I didn't imagine #1 would want to carry such a beautiful portfolio into his interview.

Lucky for #1, his brother does not appreciate a good portfolio. I just knew it was the perfect birthday present for our budding writer a couple years back. But no. The Pony opened it up, said, "Huh," and tossed it aside. He's a computer writer. Hates to put pencil to paper. Don't even think about pen. So he gave it back to me. And this morning, after a short search, I found it.





Yes, I think that's just the ticket. A right regal scrap of cowhide to haul through the doors of gainful employment.

But not on Monday, I hope. I am afraid to watch the weather tonight. Every time I see it, the snowfall total has increased. It seems like only yesterday I heard 5-8 inches. Oh. That's right. It WAS only yesterday.

THAT'S the kind of job #1 needs. Television meteorologist. No accountability.

3 comments:

Sioux said...

When he DOES have the interview, you could always slip in a funny cartoon or post-it into the front of the portfolio, so when Genius begins the interview, he has to work hard to suppress his laughter.

Kind of like the yard gnomes in the movie "The Full Monty."

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
Or I could slip in a note with the words that elicited a chuckle from his surly lips yesterday: "Your buttocks are exposed."

He was in the middle of complaining, while wearing jeans, a shirt, a hoodie, and covered with an afghan and three couch pillows, "It's ridiculous to be this cold in my own home!"

I thought, perhaps, he might be feeling a draft in the posterior area, due to a lack of coverage by the afghan.

Sioux said...

In HIS own home? He certainly is feeling full of himself, since he went off to college, isn't he!

(Maybe you and Farmer H can both retire, and let him handle his estate...)