Thursday was take your child to work day. I remember when this started. I was in elementary school. It sounded awfully fishy to me, but incredibly fun. I begged to go count paperclips at my father's office. I made a lot of copies that day. I haven't had that much fun with a copy machine since. The Cowgirl didn't want to be left out, either. After a lot of pleading, she got her wish.
We took her and the dancer to work.
Oh yeah, that's right... we both work at home.
They live in the middle of our work. They are the main reason we grab our hair and give up on getting our work done. But in the spirit of adventure, we dove in. They went to Dad's office first.
He told them that their first duty was helping him clean the studio, which they did with gusto.
Then he let them "animate" using a paint program. They took it very seriously.
Did some joint projects:
Got critiqued by their boss:
And after meeting some very tough deadlines, they knocked off for the day. By the time they got upstairs to my office, they were too tired think of a whole new story and write it.
Welcome to my world, girls.
It was almost an authentic experience. If they really wanted to go to work with me all day they would have done three loads of laundry, turned off every closet light, dug through the vacuum canister for a polly pocket shoe, found the green marker that someone left behind the piano, cooked something that burned and then sat down to write a clever and heart-wrenching tale of redemption while opening fruit snacks and checking homework.
But I don't want to scare them too much, so we'll stick with painting pink elephants on the computer.
No donuts in the break room. No receptionist that smells like lemon pledge. No paperclips.
But also no school, so it's all