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.
Woops.
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