History Repeats

History repeats itself. I can prove it.


As a teenager, my lovely daughter (yes, it was Ivy) took a job at a national grocery store chain. It is disputable if she actually wanted the job, or if I wanted her to have a job, any job. I had a job during my high school years, so naturally, I thought it was important my children follow my example.


My desire for my children to follow my example didn’t work that well for Ivy’s older brother. He took got a job at a local fast-food restaurant, just as I had done in high school. One day he announced he didn’t want to work as scheduled. Very firmly, as my parents would have done, I told him, “Get in the truck, you are going to work.” As we pulled into the parking lot, he started to remove his uniform. I asked, “What are you doing?” He jumped out of the truck. I saw him throw his uniform into the landscaping and start running. He beat me back to our house. I guess he didn’t want to work that day.


In fairness to the boy, my restaurant career didn’t end on the happy side either. Oh, didn’t throw my uniform in the landscaping. I was asked to hand it to the manager. I guess when they told me to get a haircut; they were serious. Had I known that, I would have thrown the (construction language) thing into the landscaping. Sorry, I might still be a little bitter. Stupid hat.


Where was I? Oh, yeah; Ivy.


I don’t think Ivy really liked her job, however, she liked the money it gave her. Ivy’s always been a little independent. Truthfully, there were days I didn’t like her working there either. I hated when she worked the late-shift. I had/have this problem of not sleeping until the kids are home. Snowy nights were/are the worst. Many a night I drove to Ivy’s store to bring or follow her home.

Ivy likes to tell a story about driving home in a snowstorm with me following behind. Ivy’s little Volkswagen convertible started sliding. The car spun around, changed direction, and was headed back at me. Ivy was able to stop the car before she hit anything or went off the road and down a substantial hill. Another driver was not as lucky/skilled. He was off the road, at the bottom of the hill putting chains on his car. I stopped my truck and jumped out running to Ivy. Ivy had the window down as I ran up. She was as white as the snow. With all the parental wisdom I had/have I said, “Well, how did that work out for you?” Ivy burst into tears. She told her mother what I said. We laugh now, every time she tells the story.


I apologize, I have a little trouble staying focused. I made coffee but haven’t had a cup yet.


Anyway, Ivy was at work one Christmas Eve years ago. She called home from the store.


Ivy: Dad, they want me to work tomorrow. (I wasn’t Monner back then.) Me: OK, I guess you’re working tomorrow. Ivy: It’s Christmas tomorrow. I’m quitting. Me: Wait, you will get triple time (Close to $40/hr.) We can have Christmas when you get home. Ivy: No, I’m quitting. Me: But, but, but… Ivy: Too late, I’m walking out


I’m not sure if she threw her uniform in the landscaping. It wasn’t much of a uniform anyway, just a necktie and a vest. No (construction language) hat. Sorry, that was uncalled for.


Now for the history repeating stuff.


Since the Your Daily Fiber has gone online, Ivy has re-enrolled in school. Enter beervirus. Classes are virtual. Ivy has more spare time than she expected. She decided to find a seasonal part-time job. I mentioned Ivy likes to have money. Plus, Ivy wanted to be busier.


Last night, Ivy called me at home


Ivy: Monner, (I’m Monner now.) they want me to work Christmas Eve. Me: Oh God, here we go again.


Stay tuned, as history repeats itself.


UPS and Fed-Ex are delivering new yarn up here, weekly. Between you and me, I think they hate us.


God Bless you and yours during this holiday season.


You don’t need it, but you have my permission to quit your job.


Our crazy lives!


Monner

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