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Little feet and the staple gun

Posted by on August 6, 2004

Today one of my coworkers brought her toddler to work. Well, I didn’t need both eardrums, right? It’s 3:00 and I’m trying to figure out a nice way of saying “Go home early and take your child or my ears will fall off from listening to the tea kettle screech she emits.” Possibly I will just wait until the next time the little girl starts up and then say “Hey, your kid is boiling!”

The kid is actually pretty well-behaved as kids go, but she’s still a kid. This is not a space for kids. You can tell because the walls are beige and no one wears foam cartoon character outfits (except that guy on the second floor, but he’s not someone you want around your kids is my theory).

But then she comes over and puts her tiny little hand in my huge man-sized hand and I feel this huge wave of happiness and I think to myself You fucking knee-jerk body, pull it together, dammit. I will NOT be a slave to your reproductive whims! And the Lad everywhere breathes a sigh of relief.

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