May 2013, Wyatt is seven, we are moving (again).
Wyatt watched this guy delivering our POD yesterday for a while and then came to me whispering, “Mommy, I think this guy is really inexperienced.” I had not noticed anything amiss, but I admit I was too distracted packing boxes to pay much attention. I half-listened as he enumerated all the ways in which the guy could have more efficient as he positioned the POD. A bit later, once the guy had finished the job, I was thanking him and saying goodbye when Wyatt piped up.
“Excuse me, I have a question,” he said.
“Yes?” the guy said.
“Is today like, maybe your first or second day doing this job?” Wyatt asked.
The guy laughed, “Actually, it’s my third.”
“So… you’re still just working on getting good at this, huh?”
“Yeah… They gave me twelve hours of training on Monday and then sent me out with the truck yesterday.”
“I kind of noticed that. Next time you should get that part right there– you see that part I’m pointing at?– if you get it right at the same angle as the curb, then it will line up more straightly and you won’t have to go back and forth so many times.”
The guy looked where Wyatt is pointing, looked back at Wyatt, and then slapped Wyatt on the back. “Want a job?” he said.
Wyatt said, “No, I’m still a kid.”
“Well, I can tell you’re going places, buddy.”
“Yeah, that’s true! I’m going to the moon!”