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Stage

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Apr-11-2010

In the middle of last week , The Boy told me that he had to find a place to do a Stage for one week. A Stage is where these 15 year old kids have to find a place to work for one week. I have no idea if they get paid, for that is not the point. This was really last minute.

Once again, I am doing triage : his best bet is here in town. He was born and bred here, he has a network. He is bilingual, adults love The Boy. History is his best subject, I am thinking the tourist center here in Town. We live in a tourist town, he knows where to go to get whatever you want to eat, he knows what to see. He can talk WWII. Hey, that church steeple fell on our house. I am still digging up those bricks.

I went over to the Tourist center on Thursday. It was on my way to buy parsley. Much to my surprise, the woman behind the counter is someone that I have often said good morning to and shared some of my lame chit chat comments with. We were both a little surprised to see one another, in this setting.

I explained The Boy’s need for a Stage and she really, really wanted to help. But she could not. There simply was not enough time.

Friday ( are we hearing the clock ticking here ?) he and a friend of his pulled out a phone book and started cold calling places, for somewhere to do a Stage. The Boy tried that Ice Cream place in Town. No. He tried that lovely Deli in Town. No.

And then he called his old primary school. He got the Director of the school on the phone. For whatever reason, The Boy did not give his full name. He said, with Boy, in that way that the Dutch do phone calls. The Boy’s name is not as unusual as the girls’ names, his name is not unheard of here. But the Director of his school is saying, Boy ? Boy ? Boy X ? Yes !

The Boy will be doing this Stage business a few villages over at a primary school that the Director of his old school also handles. What a peach of a job. It is better then filling shelves at a grocery store or slinging ice cream. The Boy will love this.

The Father took him to the school today, so that he would know where he had to bike to tomorrow morning. On the way home, The Boy got to drive the BMW for a bit. It was a safe area, and he hit 60kms an hour. Better than I did, the last time I tried to learn how to drive : any slower and I would have been going backwards.

About an hour ago ( read : the baker is closed), I said, Boy, you are going to have to bring a lunch tomorrow ! It was one of those oh sh*t situations. Do you still have that box for sandwiches ? Yes. There it is. Kangaroo ( Skippy) will do, we have some bread, I have some small packets of apple juice. This will do. Usually at school he heads out into that town and buys something for lunch. He doesn’t really like sandwiches in a box.

I really expect him to have a wonderful week.

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