Well done to Ton's Grand-Daughter
Grandson and me almost fell out when I told him the farm shop up the road wanted young people for weekend work. They have a lovely café, smoke their own bacon, kill their own lambs, have a chef which all fits in with his catering college.
'I'm not working for three pounds an hour' he said.
I could have smacked him! I told him if he worked for ten hours that would be thirty quid that his Mum and me wouldn't have to give him for everyday spending. That if he worked well the boss would put it up to £3.50. That he had no experience of working and he needed to start somewhere. He'd be fed and watered and actually learn something especially as for his last two years in school he hasn't learned anything at all!
'I'm not lugging sacks of potatoes around for three pounds an hour' said he.
I turned into bad Nan then and thought that he is seventeen years old this year and at his age I was two years into my hairdressing apprenticeship working for peanuts. He disappointed me because his older brother was working weekends at fourteen washing up in restaurants and his Mum and me never had to give him a penny.
We got over it but I didn't like hearing him say that.