Come answer a question, share a laugh, encourage one another, and bring me a coffee! | 
My first paying job was babysitting for neighbors on our street.  That was 50 cents an hour, no matter how many kids!  I remember one time a couple came home a bit on the tipsy side and offered me more money than they owed.  I said no, they insisted, so I went home with a small raise.  When I told my mom, she made me take the extra money back the next day.  The parents were over their buzz by then and took it.  Good bye, 3 bucks.  Bummer. I stopped babysitting when a terrible little kid threw a chunk of metal in their fireplace, pulled it out with tongs, and tossed it at me. After decades, I still remember his name: Bob. Then, I applied to work at a vet clinic, but the doc said no because they couldn't pay me. Being an animal lover, I said I would work there for free, and he took me right up on that offer. All that summer, I walked about 2 miles to work and back, cleaned kennels, and wiped the exam tables. I almost fainted when I saw the first abdominal incision made on a little dachshund. Turned out, I wasn't cut out to be a vet after all.  |