We Can Work It Out

A mother of one of Emma's schoolmates relayed this conversation she had with our oldest recently.

"Emma," she asked. "What does your dad do?"

The mother had seen me at many of the school events and needless to say, most of the volunteers are not usually men. I suspect that having such a good-looking fella around causes the women-folk to inquire.

"Huh?" my daughter answered.

"What kind of work does your dad do?" she rephrased.

Without a bat of an eye she answered, "He helps people that can't help themselves."

"That's quite a job description." the mother thought to herself as she performed a follow-up, "So is he a social worker?"

The six-year old replied frankly, "No."

"So, does he work out of your home?"

"No." Emma answered.

The line of questioning continued by the confused, yet intrigued woman. "Is he a therapist?"

"No. He just helps others."

It was at this point the mother decided that she was going to have to get the real answers from one of us.

After hearing her story, I decided to ask Emma the same thing to see for myself what she thought. I began, "Hey honey, do you know what I do?"

The freckle-faced child stared at me.

I tried again, "Do you know what my job is?"

"Yes." she boldly answered with no further explanation.

"What is my job, babe?" apparently I had to phrase the question in a more correct format.

"Your job is to make sure that Ellie and I are safe."