, , ,

The early spring warmth that lightly stirs the magnolia branches is beckoning life to come and play.   Even now, the neighbor dogs and my own Madeleine chase each other up and down the wood fence that hides their view of the competition.  From where I sit, looking out my second story window, I’d put my money on Maddie.

My son Bryan will be running back and forth to Edmond this semester for a needed accounting class that O.U. doesn’t offer.  Hoping for an easy meal, Bryan called to ask about this evening’s dinner menu.  And then…almost as an afterthought…Bryan casually mentioned he had a job interview this Wednesday.   Who knows but that perhaps this rare job interview is a breath of warm air showing signs of life in the economy.

The name of the hiring firm — one I’ve never heard of — caused me to offer little by way of comment.  Interpreting this as a lack of endorsement, Bryan surprised me by asking if he should accept a position if offered.  Of course, I told Bryan I didn’t know the answer to his question but that any job offer would be hard to pass up in this economy — as long as he liked the company and the company liked him.

I have to laugh when I consider that I have one son asking me questions like this and another who doesn’t trust me to know what is appropriate business attire for downtown Oklahoma City.   In the space of days, I’ve had one son put too much store in my opinion and the other dismiss me for the junk heap that I should crawl on top of — being the all-used-up CPA that I am, of course.  And the beautiful irony sitting on the fence is that I know more about what Kyle should wear to work than what Bryan should do in accepting work.

But back to Bryan’s Wednesday appointment — having sat on the interviewer’s side of the fence, I would guess competition for this new staff position will be fierce.  I don’t envy the interviewers their job since there is so little to actually go on in making hiring decisions on new college graduates.  But knowing what I know about Bryan — if these interviewers could use a biased opinion of an all washed up CPA who no longer knows how to dress for success — I could tell them exactly who to put their money on for a sure bet.

And maybe because I’m not their mother, they might actually listen.