Clipboard

My dearly beloved firstborn just arrived at my elbow with a yellow legal pad of paper on a clipboard and an official manner.

Giving Uno a clipboard is like having a close encounter with the Ghost of “Office Space” Future.  She becomes a middle-management nightmare.

Her voice changes to a screech with a hint of New Jersey accent and she demands that people give and take tickets to concerts, basketball games, or roller coasters.

If you don’t immediately drop what you’re doing and do her bidding – oh, my! – the consequences are a severe tongue lashing or even a complete meltdown into tears.  To make everything just a bit more intense her pencil is her instrument of direction,  either tap, tap, tapping on her clipboard or pointing at her subjects with imperious accusation.

Just now she wanted to make sure I had all my paperwork in order for our trip to the swimming pool this afternoon.  Apparently we need visas and passports to make the journey across town.

Isn’t it funny how a simple talisman can give a person authority and comfort?

Forgive me for the short post, but there’s a bureaucrat demanding I submit paperwork and go through the proper channels.  A swim adventure is at risk…