To wit: AAH, aged 14, heads downtown today with her girlfriends, as girlfriends-aged-14 do. Returns home and announces with great enthusiasm: ‘I have a job!’

YT: […]

Seems she’s got a job at an upmarket bakery downtown. Evidently the manageress felt she was a tad too young… [wince, chew-on-nails] but in the end relented. Because, one supposes, there are too many jobs to go around and not enough people to do them [YT can see through everything].

YT: So when do you start?
AAH: Tomorrow!
YT: Tomorrow?! [Pause] Do you know how early you have to get up to work in a bakery?
AAH: Yes I know, but I’m gonna do it. It’s great, I’m so happy, it’s such a nice bakery!
YT: [Has serious reservations about AAH’s longevity in the getting-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn dept. Seeing as how she sleeps until noon whenever given the opportunity, and if not given the opportunity, bitches about not being given the opportunity.]
YT: So how much are you getting paid?
AAH: I don’t know, I didn’t want to be rude and ask at the first interview.
YT: […] [ARGH!][Gives AAH an earful about not asking how much she’s going to get paid].
EPI: Congratulations! I think it’s great news.
YT: [Shoots EPI a sharp look.]

… And so on.

My baby. Is going to go work in a bakery. Do we have genuine misgivings, or is this a heavy case of separation anxiety?

Exceptionally beautiful. Sunny, fresh-type cool, moderate winds. Everyone in a happy mood because the sun was out. Especially AAH because she has her first real job. Temps at the moment are 8°C and daybreak was at 05.23, nightfall at 21.28.