

Why My Son Works At La Patisserie
When I was 11 years old, I spent much of my summer working in my father’s dry cleaners. It was small town Texas, it was 105 degrees, and it was my summer vacation. All I wanted to do was be like my friends, riding bikes, playing with toys, and swimming. But my parents insisted that we leave the house at 8am and spend the morning pressing clothes, loading washing machines and sorting through jeans worn by cowboys which had their own “unique” smell. While I resented it at the t