Mary Margaret brought her five-year-old daughter to the office today.
Everyone fussed all over her and cracked out the usual old chestnuts.
“So, you must be the new customer service representative.”
“We’re hiring them young these days.”
“Can I show you where the coffee is?”
The kid look horrified. And rightly so…
I don’t have children and I’m no expert on early childhood education but I don’t think children should be exposed to cubicles, recycled air and office politics until they’re at least old enough to smoke.
It seems cruel.
“Hey, kid, look what’s waiting for you in 20 years: Stale coffee, staff meetings and a tiny horse stall all your own. Enjoy your freedom while you can!”
This is more traumatic than walking in on your parents having sex…
Then again, maybe it isn’t quite that bad…
Maybe it’s possible that seeing all the mind-numbing paper pushing first hand will drive the kid to aspire to bigger and better things.
I sure hope so.
In any case, Mini-Mary Margaret seemed to fit right in. She sat in her mother’s chair, plunked away on the computer and even forwarded me a joke email. A chip off the old block.
She even cried when we ran out of cookies.
Maybe we should just get her business cards printed now. Looks like she has a future at Hamish Industries.