The accounting department in which I work would like an electric stapler. Being an accounting department that has grown from a staff of one, to a staff of four, and has not yet transitioned to a paperless system, we use a lot of staples.
Yesterday, I hear the person who orders the supplies say very loudly to another employee, “I am NOT going to order a $20 stapler!”
As though this expense will come out of her personal budget.
Office politics. Ugh.
I have discovered that people will passionately defend their choices in flotation devices, in the same manner that they will champion cloth diapers and vilify pacifiers.
We had a lovely holiday. We went to C’s. DD did a little happy dance when she saw K and rushed into the pool. It was freezing cold. So we went across the street to a neighbors who graciously said we could all join her family in their heated pool.
I got a Dora the Explorer floating tube for DD. She was very excited about it. The other parents kept offering life-jacket style bathing suits and things. Really, I preferred for her to get used to the water and not have the false security of a suit with floats in it. Those can be terrific. But I didn’t want DD in one yesterday. I’d have liked her to have one if we were boating, or in the lake or ocean. But in a quiet pool, I felt it unnecessary.
This launched a litany of “my child needs the life-jacket because she has no fear.” That’s terrific. My child has fear at this point. And I have the ability to watch her like a hawk.
I stayed near DD. After a while she became brave and took the float into the pool by herself and kicked her way around the shallow end. I think she did very well. She would have liked me to hold onto her and stay in the pool the whole time. But of course, she’s two.
I don’t expect others to teach their children to swim in the same fashion that I do. Nor did I expect them to use cloth diapers and pouch slings – although I will gladly extol the virtues of such products to anyone who cares to listen. Nor will I take my child’s pacifier away because somebody else thinks she’s too old for it.
Take a deep breath everybody; nobody is judging you. At least, not me.
in the manner of David Sedaris, without catching hell. How can I arrange this?
My office, always an interesting place, is operating like a Friday. People are relaxed, dressing at the lower limit of the dress code, and chatting up a storm. Disorganization reigns. I would like to be working on a project. But obviously, I’m not. I’ve not been assigned anything. It’s a hurry up and wait day. Bah!
Tomorrow is going to be painful.
I’m not actually the frog. It’s my grandmother. She has been in the United States for about 50 years and still sounds like she just stepped off the boat from France. I am the frog descendant.
