Mr. Boy worked ten hours yesterday in his first paid life-guarding gig for the city and went back for another five hours this afternoon. Lot of hours for a 15-year-old.
He had one semi-funny story. A young mother told him her infant had inadvertently thrown up “a little bit” in the kiddy end. He told her he was “not authorized” to deal with it. Heh.
Could have been worse, he said, an AFR. What’s that? Accidental Fecal Release, in bureaucratic-speak. He’s scheduled to work everyday this week from noon to four.