Last year I worked at the Ryder Cup parking cars. It was obviously a temporary job, but I got a phone call from the same company a few weeks ago asking if I wanted to work an event at the Fairgrounds. It was a good time to make a little extra money, so after I got child care arrangements made, I accepted the opportunity. So now I am a security guard. Yeah, that’s right, don’t mess with me!

I’ve learned a little about security guards. We usually have no idea what we’re doing, at least not at first. I don’t just let anybody into my parking lot. You have to actually be near my gate and look like you want in. Then, and only then will I allow you to enter.

My only weapon is a walkie talkie. The first day on the job (last Wednesday) I overheard this amusing little conversation:

Unidentified worker: Malcolm?
Malcolm: Go for Malcolm.
Unidentified worker: Where’s the North Wing?
Malcolm: It’s just north of the South Wing.
Malcolm’s wife: Not everybody’s mind works like yours does dear.

I know, it’s a little silly, but I try to find pleasure in the simple things.

Yesterday our ward had a fund raiser for the Scouts that included a pasta meal donated by Carrabas (very good, by the way) and an auction of cakes and stuff. The only cost for coming was a cake (or stuff) for the auction. I brought a bunch of brownies. Rachel went over to Jimmy Smith. She likes him for some reason. It may be because he always encourages her to ask me for a dirt bike or a shot gun. Anyway, he had a plate of chocolate on chocolate cookies. Rachel held the cookie in her hand for a while, and finally, with some encouragement she delicately put it to her mouth for a taste. It didn’t leave. She just held it there and sucked on it until gradually it disintegrated in her mouth, on her face and in her hand. She was in an excellent mood for the rest of the night.

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