"Dude, you got THE look!"

Letter of Gratitude to my Son, who constantly teaches me a lesson on unconditional love, endless surprises, and laughter, per RX by Dr. Richard Carlson, Author.  “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff….and it is all small stuff.

Last Week at a late lunch meet:

“Hey Mom, I was called for a group interview to work at this most awesome clothing hipster store in G-town.”

-Cool! What did they ask you?

“All kinds of stuff, and  there was this  annoying girl who  kept interrupting the interview. Like the manager asked me if I can close some nights and this girl said, “I can because I live nearby.” I thought maybe I bombed  because I waited until she is done with the answers to questions posed to me. And you know I did not have any clothing retail experience but I told them I will learn.  So I just waited until she is done telling the Manager about herself then I spoke. 

-That is nice that you gave her a chance to hang herself.

Aside:  I would have slapped the idiot bitch. (Primal  Parenting)

Four days ago:

“Mom, I got called back for a one-on-one and it looks like I have  an 85% chance. They want me to come back for a photo session on Monday.”

-For an ID perhaps?

“No, to make sure I have the looks, you know, the look that they want! The CEO is picky how his employees look”

-Interesting…but what about the annoying hijacker?

“Oh the Manager did not like her, I was told.  She  said I was very professional and that I was honest to tell her about my transportation issues.

-Who told you this?

“There were some guys working in the store who told me.”

-Oh, you have connections?

“No but this one girl,  she saw me there and put in a good word for me.  She said the Manager also liked my look.”

-Oooooh.

“After my interview, I met up with my former coworkers at K Street.  Mom, listen. “  They said, “What in the hell, where've you been dressed up like THAT?” I told them where and they said, “Dude,  they had better hire you! You got their look!”

This is the look: Bright squash goldish/yellowish skinny jeans, button down shirt that shows off the a svelte twenty year old ABS(beer belly in the distant future), expensive leather loafers, sky- blue socks, sky blue thin necktie, eyeglasses. 

My heart stopped as I imagined "the look" then I  gave him a high five,  -Dude, they had better hire you! You got THE look!

Two days ago:

“Hey Mom, I got the job!”

-That is excellent! Congratulations!

We and his extended family went to dinner to celebrate.  His teen-aged cousins were excited. "We like that store! Cool!"

Parenting Note:  My kid told me later on the drive home, “Mom, getting through the interview and being able to pass it and be chosen made me feel that I am OK, that there is something about me they liked and I feel validated.

That tugged at my heart. His generation was often told that they are doing an “excellent job” for an above average result and “super  job” for a mediocre job.  When these kids go out in the world, they are finding that they are no longer the superstars they believed they were when they were being coddled  at school and at home.

 As parents, we try to keep our children grounded so we tend to raise the bar higher and they get confused because their self-worth was tied to all the “Super!” “Excellent!” stickers and marks they got from  school to camp to the video game they play.    We dole out tough love and tell them that they still have lots of room to grow and develop and improve.  Sometimes, that means telling   them NO.  

His charisma worked once again.  I am confident that someday the “look” will be more conservative with just a flash of trendiness.   I am glad that he is finding his way, one hiccup at a time, and when he does, he feels he can share it with me, good or bad.  "My job is to put you back in the right path when you detour off your route."

Oh before I forget - the girl who gave a good word for him – she and he are hanging out to dinner  at the end of the week.

“Mom, do you have a recommendation for some cheap eats in China Town?

Nice to know his Mom’s recommendations still count in a major way, no less.