Bring your kids to work day: Part 1

October 19, 2006

Yesterday was “bring your kids to work” day. For raw annoyance factor it is exceeded only by “Smash AJ in the nuts with a cast iron frying pan” day, and it’s a close second. Whatever benefit is accrued from press ganging a vanload of homely, disinterested children into witnessing the drudgery and sadness of office life, is vastly exceeded by the deep emotional scarring inflicted on them, and me. Did Eddie from Accounting’s twins really need to see him burrow into his cloak room shame pile and weep away his lunch hour? I think not.

Despite my stated objections, I’m good company man, so I decided to play ball for the sake of the team, and tolerate the swarm of chundering dronelings. Hell, in a gesture of goodwill I even took down the bowl of poisoned candy I keep on my desk. My consideration was repaid with the coldest of betrayals.

Upon returning from my break time exploring of the office crawl spaces I found Carl from Marketing standing by my desk; two chest high, tarp covered, mounds beside him.

“Are you unveiling a statue commemorating the beating you are about to receive?” I asked, unbuttoning my shit cuffs for maximum punchabilty.

“Oh no,” Carl said with a Cheshire grin. “I just thought you might want to take a look at this!” He snatched away the sheet to reveal my two boys, Ricochet and Lucifer.

I was pissed; my employers had gone behind my back and shanghaied my children to assure total compliance with their workplace “event”. Also, you can’t just cover other people’s children with tarps; it’s very creepy.


“Boys,” I acknowledged; the boys nodded back, clearly no more pleased with the situation than I.

“I thought you guarded a magic forest?” asked Ricochet, reproval thick in his voice.

“No, that was clearly a lie son,” I shamefully, but sternly, admitted.

“This place makes me sad. How come you don’t have a better job?” said Lucifer, the younger of the two.

“I don’t know. How come you keep failing math?” I countered, taking the wind from his smug little sails.

Carl piped up. “Quite the surprise, eh Valliant? We just figured you would want share the work experience with your children.”

I nodded bitterly and bared my teeth. “I’m about to share the three hole punch experience with your face, Carl, so I suggest you keep walking.” Given the circumstances I was proud of my restraint.

“Stomp his craw!” encouraged Ricochet, miming the manner in which one would stomp a craw.

I smiled indulgently, “Soon son, soon.”

“You never rush a stomping,” supplied Lucifer helpfully.

Carl scamped down the hall like the coward he was, slowing only to shout back: “There are games and snacks in the multipurpose room downstairs.”


The boys made their way to the child retention facility in the basement. I had given them a thorough run down on the factions, schemes, and gambits currently in place; equipped to handle the intrigue they joined the milling throng for snacks and games. Children being cruel and all it wasn’t long before the social vying started.

Kyle, the slightly burly son of one of the VP’s, rounded on the receptionist’s tubby spawn. “Wow, that’s a nice shirt. I thought the salvation army discontinued their Walrus line?” Fatty slumped dejectedly; the other management kid jiggled his rolls and laughed maliciously. Ricochet glared.

Showing what an obvious little fuck he was, Kyle next turned his attention to the red haired kid.

“Hey splotches, great face you have there. Do you have scabies or something?”

“My skin produces excess melanin,” said Charles, defensively.

Kyle sneered. “Oh melanin. I heard about that. It’s the stuff that turns you into a faggot.”

Chants of “homo” and “ginger haired ass jockey” rang out. Lucifer patted Charles on the shoulder and moved a little in front of him.

Solidly in the zone now Kyle locked his gaze on his next victim. “Hey freak show, your dad was captured and forced to work in the mailroom.”

Chumzo the tiny Sasquatch wept bitterly into his huge hands. My boys had had enough.

Continued in Part 2

Office adventures in chronological order


5 Responses to “Bring your kids to work day: Part 1”

  1. NotMike Says:

    I thought “Smash AJ in the nuts with a cast-iron frying pan day” was replaced with “Mike-Quit-Hitting-Yourself Day.”

  2. “I thought “Smash AJ in the nuts with a cast-iron frying pan day” was replaced with “Mike-Quit-Hitting-Yourself Day.”

    There is a seasonal rotation.

  3. Somehow I can totally see you being that kind of dad, with those kinds of kids.

    You sure you aren’t holing them away somewhere for real? ;)

  4. jaybird Says:

    AJ’s kids are busy in Beijing strangling kittens under the watchful gaze of Pawtucket.

  5. Haywood Jablohmei Says:

    Wow…that was a great read – and well written

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