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Amok Mama: Exberliner’s next intern

Jacinta Nandi knows one of the perks of being an intern at Exberliner Magazine. And its enough to put the awe in her son, Ryan.

One morning, I check the post, and there’s nothing in the Briefkasten except a copy of Exberliner.

“So you know how you got an Abo for that magazine, don’tcha, Mama? I think you should get me an Abo for Micky Maus.”

“No,” I say, clicking the door of the mailbox shut.

“You should, Mum.”

“I can just buy you it at the kiosk each week,” I say, as we start climbing the stairs.

“Why won’t you get me an Abo?”

I sigh exasperatedly. “As soon as I buy you a subscription to Micky Maus, you’ll go off it. Your tastes change so quickly. Remember all your different hobbies? All you different favourite things? Horrid Henry. Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Star Wars. Micky Maus. Club Penguin.”

“I still like all of them things except for Star Wars, Mama.”

“Yeah, well. Your favourite things change each week and that’s why I’m not buying you a subscription to Micky Maus and that’s that.”

Ryan sighs forlornly as we reach our front door.

“I don’t know how come you’re allowed a prescription to Exberliner and I’m not allowed one for Micky Maus.”

As we clamber inside the front door, I grab his Schulranzen from him and pull out his lunchbox, throw his uneaten – untouched, basically – sandwiches in the bin, put the kettle on. Then I turn around and look at him and say: “I haven’t even got an Abo for the Exberliner, actually.”

Ryan looks at me in surprise.

“You haven’t? But they send it you every month.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. Coz I write a column for them. So I get a free copy of the magazine.”

Ryan’s face registers total shock – total shock, and a bit of awe, too. He doesn’t often look at me with this respect in his eyes. It’s quite nice to feel respected for once, you know.

“They send you the magazine for free?” he gasps.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Every month?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Wow!” he says. “That is so nice of them.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Do you write them every month to say thank you?” he asks sternly.

“Well, er –”

“You better, Mum. Think how unhappy you’ll be if they stop doing it.”

He sits at the kitchen table and fingers the Exberliner as if it’s made of delicate silk. His eyes are gleaming slightly.

“So, if I write for Micky Maus, I’ll get a free Abo? Basically?”

“Maybe when you grow up you’ll do an internship at Exberliner,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says, enthusiastically. “I’ll do that.” He pauses a moment. “Erm, Mama. What is that? An internship?”

“It’s like work experience,” I say. “Only they don’t pay you in money, they pay you in free copies of the magazine instead.”

Ryan’s eyes start misting over.

“Yes,” he says loftily. “Maybe I will.