It’s been a quiet day for Goodnight and me. We had time to catch up about her day working in electricity.
Turns out it wasn’t as much fun as she had hoped.
GN: It was a five-hour math class, Grammy! It wasn’t the same as last year when we got to actually m-i-n-g-l-e.
Gram: I thought you worked in electricity.
GN: I got a promotion.
Gram: You did? Congratulations. What was it?
GN: Mechanical Engineer. I earned more money that way.
Gram: Did anyone like your Italian sweater set?
GN: Not that they mentioned to me. We pretty much had to do math the whole day.
Gram: Did you get to share your treats with your five friends?
GN: I didn’t have any friends.
Gram: Mechanical Engineers don’t get to have friends?
GN: Apparently not. I had to go to lunch with group A. My friends were in lunch groups B and C and we only had ten minutes to eat, then we were hurried back to our . . . math.
Gram: Mechanical Engineers only get a ten minute lunch? I’m glad I’m a state employee. I get a longer lunch.
Goodnight’s field trip was not actually about running a city as she suspected. Each student was interviewed, and then assigned a position, but that was for the sake of giving them the math to do. They were told their gross income and the size of their family. They were told their federal and state taxes and they had to do the math to see what they had left. They had to purchase a home, a car, their water plan, food, clothing, etc. They basically had to do budgeting, make payments, write checks, balance checkbooks, invest and make some philanthropic contributions.
Goodnight’s was given a good salary as a Mechanical Engineer, but she was also told she had a nine-year-old child and no spouse. She selected a sports car: Mercedes Benz convertible. Sounds a wee bit similar to a widowed grandmother with a 14-year-old grandchild. Maybe she got a glimpse into my world . . . except for the Mechanical Engineer part and the convertible
Oh well, the Italian sweater set was cute even if no one told her it was. I rather like the purple color. 
And about my bus driver advice from yesterday: no need to print it and leave it on his seat. Goodnight’s driver learned my advice the hard way – from the head boss of the transportation department. Too bad he didn’t read my blog and know that I had recently posted similar advice about not committing a crime. He might have been more concerned that Detective Officer Friendly’s widow would be doing her grammy homework.
