Regular Life

(Two songs, “Gaudete” and “The Holly and the Ivy,” are available on my Free Christmas Song Each Day page)

Wednesday last week, when our van was in the shop, Shannon and Ben brought me into work. For his part, the boy spent the 25-minute commute munching on his Organic Mini-Wheats and sucking milk from a sippy cup (yes, he drinks from a regular cup, but until it’s wildly age-inappropriate, why deny ourselves the convenience of those sippies?). Between mouthfuls, he interjected comments like, “That’s a red pickup truck,” while pointing out the window.

As we pulled into the parking lot, Ben said, “I want to go to work with you, Daddy.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but Daddy can’t take you into work,” Shannon said.

Ben shifted into low whining gear. “But I want to.”

“Well, I can’t take you in with me right now, but when you and Mommy come to pick me up, you can come in and I’ll show you my work. Does that sound good?”

He nodded. We parted ways with everybody happy. (note to non-parents or those expecting — tricks like this do not always work)

My page-a-day Dads calendar, the first thing I look at after logging in, read:

“Take your child to your place of work. Many companies have a special day for bringing children; however, based on the age of your child, you may want to show him your workplace after hours or on the weekend. Give him a tour of the facility and explain what you do all day.”

That’s perfect, I thought. Ben has been inside the building before, when I’m out with him and need to pick up something, and on the rare occasion that I’m giving visiting relatives a quick tour of the facility, but always at times when I knew nobody was working.

The rest of the day, I looked forward to Ben’s visit. I’m usually friendly, but I was especially chipper and gave everybody a toothy smile rather than a casual close-mouthed grin. I was so wreckless that I never once thought of the off-white tint of my teeth.

Shannon called shortly before 5 o’clock to announce they were on the way, to make sure nothing had come up to delay the end of my work day. Nothing had, so they headed out. I hoped in that last 20 minutes that nothing pressing got thrown in my lap.

After Shannon’s next call, I headed out to greet them. They walked along the sidewalk, hand-in-hand, Ben’s gaze on the narrow strip of gray rocks running the length of the building. Each round rock, covered in black specks, was about the size of a grown man’s fist.

Ben said, “Those are jellybean rocks.”

At the exterior door, I pointed at the ID badge hanging from a retractable holder on my right hip. “Ben, watch what this does.”

I pulled the badge up and placed it against the card reader. The reader beeped, the light turned from red to green, and the door lock disengaged. “See? It unlocks the door so I can go inside.”

Ben’s eyes widened just a little.

Since the first day his little fingers could grasp, Ben has habitually grabbed and yanked on my badge. I always stopped him and told him it was not a toy.

Now was his big chance.

“Do you want to try it?” I asked.

“Yes!”

I stepped closer to the door. Ben grabbed the badge and barely extended his arm far enough for the reader to accept his clearance and again unlock the door. I reached out and pulled the door open.

“Good job, Ben. You did it!” Shannon and I said, almost in unison.

A short walk down the hall brought us to my department. Beyond my cubicle, several of my co-workers lingered near a cubicle with a window view. Most of them have kids, and they visibly warmed when they saw Ben. “Oh, hi! You must be Benjamin,” they said.

“Hi,” Ben said.

He spotted an empty gray chair and pointed. “My daddy has a big-boy chair at his work.” As far as he knows, after all, work is daddy’s place just as much as home is.

Amidst co-workers’ light laughter, Ben walked right up to the chair and climbed into the seat. He looked around at everybody, their attention now squarely on him. “I have a Razorback chair at my house,” he said.

“Oh, well, you gotta have that,” said a co-worker.

I introduced everybody to him and Shannon. They exchanged a few refreshingly non-vacuus pleasantries, most related to kids and how darn cute they are.

We pulled Ben away from the attention to continue the tour. I showed him my cubicle, which he might have been able to pick out himself based on all the family pictures on display. “This is where Daddy works,” Shannon said.

“What are these?” Ben asked. He was pointing at the dry-erase markers on my whiteboard’s tray.

“Markers. You want to draw something?”

Vigorous nodding.

“You want orange or red?” I asked, trying to think who might have taken my black, yellow, and blue.

“I want red,” he said, and proceeded to draw his version of a spider web. It’s more a mass of scribbles, really, something I imagine a spider might weave after knocking back too many shots of Eight-Legs Tequila.

Next we were off to the computer room, where I explained what each system does.

“These are all your computers, Daddy?” Ben asked.

“These are the computers I work with, yes,” I said.

He pushed a button that took down half the ATM’s on the eastern seaboard.

Well, not really. To do that, he would have to hold a button in for at least four seconds, and we were watching him closely enough that it wouldn’t happen. And, to be fair, no one machine here controls quite that many ATM’s, and there’s a backup failsafe that stands in should one of the servers explode. Had you for a second, though, didn’t I? (secretly, I like the sound of the term “eastern seaboard,” and use it whenever I get the chance)

Next we introduced Ben to the computer operators, one of whom is a chocolate freak. “I’ll bet Jolly Roger will let you have a piece of chocolate.”

“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Jolly Roger said, pointing to his seemingly bottomless candy dish, full of a variety of Nestle Treasures.

Ben said, “Thank you,” and bounced on the balls of his feet while I unwrapped the Chocolate Truffle.

He enjoyed the chocolate while we headed back to my cube to grab my things.

The next day, it became clear that Ben’s visit had an impact on him. I’ve already run long, though, and that one includes a video clip, so it will have to wait (no spoilers in the comments, honey, mmm-kay? Thanks.)

Comments RSS