The Evolution of BYOB

Well, today it looks as if I have crossed the line officially into the club of old geezer. While at work today I happen to notice that there were an unusual amount of children wandering around the location. In fact it was rather early for so many children to be in this location—period. I thought, given how mess upped the school system is these days. They probably were just having another unscheduled day off. They did not use up the full allotment of hurricane days this year. Or so I thought.

It was not until one of the children wandered into an area that they had no business being in. That I became aware that something was not right here. I told the child in question that it was not safe for her back here and that she should go back out front and find her parents. That's when she explained to me, the way only an arrogant child who knows something that you don't, can. That her mom works here and she can go anywhere she wants.

Now I am a pretty anti-social guy, so I don't know everyone in this location. So with the arrogant child in the role of McDuff, we went in search of her procreator. In route to finding her procreator, it was as if I was passing through a sea of aimless children. I begin to longed for the safety of my quiet little childless chiefdom. In all honesty I should have figured out what was taking place. But old age has many cruel disadvantages. Not least among them is selective memory.

Upon reaching her procreator, I was informed that it was national bring your child to work day. And that I should have known this because of the company's email memo that was sent out. Well, maybe I would have known this. Accept for the fact that I am childless and pretty proud of it. I probably saw the subject of that email and just deleted it without even opening it. But after my dressing down by the procreator, I figured it was about time I read the email.

Well I read that email, interesting it was. Apparently on the day in question. We were suppose to watch our language, make the place safer and increase our awareness of any problems in the work place environment. All this to make our little guest for the day feel right at home. It's bad enough that on any given day that, the procreators, have tendencies not unlike their aimless spawns. It was going to be a day to long. I am glad that I was not the only one who knew this.

It would appear that the writer of the email was like me. One who was childless and not looking forward to bring your child to work day. How do I know this. He ended his email with, “Enjoy your time with your children. On bring your child to work day. BYOB :-)”.

I got it. But I must admit that I never thought that I would see the day when BYOB at the end of a letter would stand for Bring Your Own Brat.

By Bell

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