Want Ads

Almost every night before bed, Wesley asks me if I have to work the next day. Often the answer is yes, which he finds disappointing (which I find heartbreaking). We have talked about the necessary evil of gainful employment, and he seems to have five year old's grasp on the issue. Not long ago, he said, "Mommy, I wish I was old enough to work. Then I could get money for us. That would be my favorite part of a job." When I asked what his chosen profession might be, he had a few ideas: a race car driver (well, of course), an ice cream scooper (sounds delicious), or a greeter (at Wal-mart, perhaps?). Something tells me he would be great at any of those things, but God might have something else in store.