Working the phones with papa

Papa always makes it sound as if being a reporter is difficult. In order to prove him wrong and to see what he actually does when he leaves in the morning, I decided to follow him to work. In order to fit into the press gallery atmosphere and not draw any unwarranted attention to myself, it was of the utmost importance that I dress as all the other scribes. After considerable consultation, I dug into my closet and found a pink, Winnie the Pooh outfit with a hood featuring pink ears. I think I blended in quite well.
When I arrived in the gallery, I did what I think most reporters do at 8:15 a.m., I had a nap. And when I woke up, I learned what it is like to be spun by a public relations expert. I felt quite influential because I was given the scoop on the Commissioner of Official Languages annual report.
Bob Woodward I'm not, but I thought it was critical that I properly understand the implications of the commissioner's report. And when that was over, papa and I worked the phones to arrange the stories we were going to write and then speak with some highly influential sources. And then as he read his newspaper, I read my own book which was far more interesting because it was plastic and it could be put in my mouth.
Within about 30 minutes the most influential source of them all walked in the door. No, it wasn't the premier or the opposition leader, it was Maman! She came to pick me up because I was clearly intimidating all the other reporters with my long list of sources and pink ears. I have come to the conclusion after just 45 minutes as a journalist that being a reporter is pretty darn easy. Let's be honest, it's far simpler than being a seven-month-old.