“My daughter actually wants to be like you, those things that you do are what she wants,” 36 year old Christine tells me as her fingers continue to make a pattern out of my saloon demanding dreads.
Good for her, I think as I enjoy the sensation that comes with the forking of my dreads.
I then launch into the greatness that comes with journalism, putting passion at the forefront.
Christine’s daughter has just started her senior four vacation, and I’m supposed to be giving her some career advice.
“So, can she start work?” the mother asks while the daughter shyly looks on without uttering a word (this worries me by the way seeing as journalists sure do ‘got’ mouths on them).
I reply rather hurriedly, “No, she can’t, unless someone she knows takes her on during the holiday to kill off the boredom – and get her interested.”
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