This is a post I wrote some time ago last year when I was the boss and hubby worked for me, a lot has changed since then but this one still makes me laugh……
Written in July 2010
In normal families, the wife works somewhere and the husband works somewhere else. They both come home at night and discuss how their bosses are wankers and they are worth more money.
Well in my case, my hubby and I work together. I am the wanker boss and it is me he has to convince he is worth more money to.
Awkward. Um Yes.
That said, I outsource the money discussions to other people but the boss part cannot be avoided. I had to give hubby his annual review today, this is something we’re both very comfortable with as we met at work so we know where the professional and personal line must start and end. But today was different. You see, baby no 4 woke up during his review, so I’m sitting in his annual review feeding baby (my poor work colleagues have seen more of my boobs than hubby has in the last 12 months so that didn’t really offend him in the slightest, in fact he was possibly sitting there thinking it was certainly something he hadn’t seen in a while and despite my lost mojo, he is a bloke so if I have my mojo or not, they’re still boobs) but in between constructive feedback and professional discussion he and I are passing our own baby between each other trying to settle/burb and keep him quiet as the company lawyer lives next door to my office and the last thing she needs to hear is a screeching baby. Am sure we will do better next time but it did make me realise how strange my life can seem to others.
Now whilst I’m fine with reviewing hubby’s work, the one thing I wasn’t prepared for was the amount of work you have to put into being a parent of a school aged child. Yes, silly me thought you just chucked the kid in school and the teachers did just that, they taught. What I wasn’t prepared for was the homework, the reading, the hilarious spelling mistakes and well, the questions…….
Discussion with Mr 4 as I did the school drop off this morning went as follows:
Mr 4: “Why do you work Mummy”
Me: “So that we have money”
Mr 4: “Why do we need money Mum?”
Me: “So that we can buy food and stuff”
Mr 4: “Why do we need food Mum?”
Me: “So that we can survive darling”
Mr 4: “What does survive mean Mum?”
Me: “Well darling, you need water to survive”
Mr 4: “Oh, so it’s just like if you’re fat, you die”
WTF? This kid is obsessed with death and how we go from “Why to you work” to “Fat means death” is beyond me but I am sure every parent has these discussions as I do on a daily basis. Their little brains are astounding. Equally as astounding is the way Mr 5 is spelling. He’s starting to write sentences and completely and utterly cocking them up but his sentences are really difficult to give constructive feedback on – let me explain……
The sentence below by Mr 5 is meant to say “On the weekend I went to the Moscow Circus”
The Mosgo Cocks have now gone down in folklore in our house and naturally I thought it was terribly cute and funny but when it came to Mr 5’s parent teacher interview and his teacher wheeled out the “pigsdick” (below) I was kind of speechless….
But the final straw was earlier this week (I don’t have a pic but will post when I find it in the pile of paper and bills I have to go through) when a worksheet came home from school and Mr 5 had tried to write a sentence about how something very ‘funny’ had happened on the weekend BUT he had written ‘funny’ as ‘fanny’. Yes, my little boy seems to inadvertently have a tendancy to write about the nether regions…..
Between the Mosgo Cocks, Pigsdicks and Fanny’s I’m genuinely glad I only have to conduct annual reviews for one of the blokes in my life because how on EARTH would you start a conversation with Mr 5 about that!