There was a really adorable child in the office the other day. His dad--one of our old clients--came to install Boss's new flat screen tv in the conference room, and brought his seven-year-old son with him. Naturally, Aidan got bored of "helping" his Dad within the first two minutes, so he came in to talk to me instead.
He had fun trying to play with Boss's dog (BrianSlade doesn't really like any kind of playing that involves getting up), playing with my desk toys, stealing the explosives I had hidden in my desk drawer, and then stealing my staple remover in order to use it to assault everyone else in the office.
And then I came to the conclusion that the child was being severely underfed, because while he was checking out the coffee maker:
Three packets of sugar later, he came running over to me while I was nibbling the last of the Cadbury dairy milk bars Bipolar Auntie brought over from Ireland.
After that he bounced from room to room like a pinball, generally making himself a nuisance by barging in when Boss was trying to meet with clients, and stealing his father's drill and running around with it turned on.
He came back out to visit me and took some of the gum out of my desk and ate three pieces. Then Aidan proceeded to completely win me over with shameless flattery.
He bounced around a bit more, and then came running back over to me when he heard the rustle of the packet of Fruit Roll-Up as I took it out of my purse. Obviously I gave him most of that as well, since he was such a charming little boy.
A while later, after the child detonated one of the explosives he had previously taken from my desk drawer, the father packed up his stuff as fast as humanly possible and tried to hurry the child out to the car. Aidan stopped over at my desk first and--as I suspected--wanted more food.