I think a lot about the sort of work I’d do, when I do go back to work-work, whenever that is.
Last night I realized I have acquired a new set of skills (not unlike Liam Neeson), spending my days with an irrational, adorable, button-pushing little two-and a half year-old — and I’m pretty sure I’m now well-qualified for a variety of new positions.
Hostage Negotiator. It’s 4 a.m. You need to listen to a list of ridiculous demands (“I want water! I don’t want to sleep! I want to read! There’s a crab on my floor, get it out of here! I don’t want THAT water!”) and then convince someone it’s a good idea to go back to sleep. But you also need to make them think that it’s their idea, and that’s what they’ve wanted all along. Bonus points if everyone makes it out alive.
Chambermaid. This, unfortunately, is not that funny. But I can change a set of bedsheets in a flash.
Close-up Magician. What’s that? You want to play with this valuable/expensive/irreplaceable thing we own. But what’s this ovvverrr herrreeeee?! Ahhhhh, look at what I’m doing with my hands!, and listen to the interesting story I’m telling you!, and WHAT IS THAT BEHIND YOUR EAR?!
Slapstick Comedian. Toddlers (especially boys) think you falling and/or hurting yourself is hilarious. And if you smell something stinky? Oh man, it’s all over. At least once a day I’m always a few minutes away from a Chris Farley-esque fall onto a breakaway coffee table, or hitting myself with a fake bottle.
Animal Control Officer. Successfully changing the diaper of someone who DOES NOT want their diaper changed right now, can’t be that much more difficult than say, catching an opossum in a cage, or a snake in a net.
I’m lucky I can stay home with Gus for the foreseeable future. I can’t even imagine what else I’ll be able to add to my resume.