Encounter in the hall

Ah, kids. You gotta love them.

When they're little, they think grown-ups can do anything. Behold the encounter that took place in the hallway of my house. I was on my way to the laundry room when my six-year-old stopped me and asked:

I was like, "What? No! Help me with these clothes!"

She frowned and picked up a few socks.

Later, I thought about her question. And I thought: How awesome would it be if we could do everything kids thought we could do?

I can tell you one thing: our encounter in the hallway would have been very, very different.

Ted the New Employee

It's been a long time since we've checked in with the Hedger Corp. employees. But rest assured, they are as unproductive as ever.

Facebook friends, you heard about New Employee Ted last week. Now, we'll recap Ted's story for everyone -- and we'll find out what happens when he tries to answer one of the world's most perplexing questions.

It all began last week when Charles From HR (see the guy in the weird light-blue shirt) interrupted the morning coffee break to introduce Ted, the new employee. In a semi-awkward moment, Bob moved to secure the last donut before Ted got to it.


Sue briefed Ted about Hedger Corp. She explained that no one really knew what the company did. But whatever they were doing, they weren't doing it well.

Ted was curious. What DID Hedger Corp. do? He had expected someone to tell him during the interview process, but alas no.

In search of answers, he snuck into the company file room and began searching through folders. Along the way, he found Bob's old employee-badge photo.

After spending all weekend ransacking the file room, Ted finally uncovered a folder that looked promising.

Trying to keep his excitement in check, he opened the file. He was surprised to see a single sheet of paper... with an ominous message.

Ted froze.

He was suddenly very afraid of what he might see.

And his fears were founded. Ted began to panic.

An enormous neon-green sock was pulled from behind the file cabinets. And things went downhill from there.

Then he was fully ensconced in the sock. Everything went green.

After significant flopping around, he finally found the opening. When he emerged, he saw that the zombies had straightened up the file room. He appreciated that, but it did not change his resolve. "If you think you're scaring me, you're wrong," Ted whispered, pretty much to himself. "I WILL find out what's going on. Mark my words: I'll find out!"

Advice, Wrestling and More

I share my wisdom with the kids, and my husband shares his.

Mine is normal, run-of-the-mill stuff. "Don't run in the parking lot or you'll get squished by a car." "Don't lick syrup off the plate unless you are sure you're alone."

Jack? Well, his advice is... unique. You have to understand that we're dealing with a guy who calls his six-year-old over ("Kate! I have a fun game we can play!") then busts out with things like this:
He also likes to read aloud to the children... no, not from Dr. Seuss. From the Wall Street Journal.

He thinks the kids should be world-wise. They should know about economics, they should know about politics, they should know how the world works.

And it is this mentality that comes into play when he doles out advice.

For instance, recently we were eating dinner and Kate (age 6) said something along the lines of "I'm going to beat that person up!"

I was shocked, and said:
Jack chimed in:
I nodded and started to say "Thanks, honey," but then he kept talking.

Sigh.

Not long after that, Claire (age 4) wanted a cookie. I told her she could have a banana.

"NO!" she shouted.

Jack jumped right in:


"That's right!" I said. But Jack wasn't done.



Again: sigh.

It starts out normal. "Your mom is right!" Then it ends somewhere ridiculous. "Show me how you punch. No! That's not effective. Get your whole body into it! Watch this!"

Come to think of it, the same type of thing happens when you try to hug Jack. It starts normal and then ends somewhere crazy. You may think, "I'll just give this guy a friendly hug." But as soon as you get too close and start invading his personal space, all his old wrestling instincts kick in. He's back on the mat in high school and you are his arch rival opponent.
You go in for the hug and BOOM! You're pinned. Bam! You're flipped over, and SWOOOP! you're lifted in the air and tossed like a pizza.

You were thinking "hug." Instead, you find yourself competing in an all-state wrestling match. And you're losing. Losing bad.
I should probably just hire a wrestling coach and surprise him with a move or two. Hmmm... wait; that's a fantastic idea.

Meanwhile, I can't complain. Even with the surprise wrestling matches, I still think I fare better than the children.