I think it was when I had my first job during the school holidays. Not sure how old I was, perhaps fifteen. The job was nothing to brag about. I worked in a store as a sales person. It was my first step into feeling like I was doing something productive. The job itself was boring and one thing I knew, I wanted to do better than that.
Anyway, when I got my first paycheck I was over the moon. It was money I had earned on my own and there was pride in that. Okay, it was a paltry sum but back then it felt like a whole lot of money! On my way home, I stopped at a Chinese restaurant and picked up some food to go. I think it was a noodle dish and a stir fry of some sort. Happy as a lark, I made my way home with the food containers tightly in grip and a big smile on my face.
I walked in the door like a grown up. Walking over to the table I placed the containers on the table and declared, “I brought food home.” I think I was glowing from head to toe! Watching my brothers and sisters dig in was something else and when my parents did the same, I felt like a grown up for the very first time.
It was my first grown up experience. However, these days kids are different. My son had everything handed to him and he led a privileged life. Work was nowhere in the picture and when he had to step out in the real world, I thought this is going to be a difficult transition. Well, it was. Amidst the complaints of working for a living and falling flat on his face, he is learning to be a grown up in his own way. Thank God for that!
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