My Take Your Daughter To Work Nightmare
Working while being a single parent is a balance to the say the least. I was never in the running for staying at home with my daughter, and I was raised by a proud working mother so I knew I could make it work.
Though it can be stressful to work and be a caretaker simultaneously, hilarious moments can occur too. I love witnessing my daughter pretend to write reports and articles for a deadline. She already knows from a young age that working is important, and I even bring her along with me to meetings on occasion.
One fateful day, I brought her to one of an investment writing company for a freelance meeting. It is an investment firm in the heart of the financial district and exudes the typical business professional vibe befitting of the area. In my mind, I was stopping by briefly and it made more sense to have my daughter with me. I asked my boss and he had no issue with this arrangement, so off we went. My meeting soon ran overtime, with my daughter banging on computer keys and spinning in the chair while I discussed serious and boring adult matters. Suddenly she cried out at the top of her lungs, “I NEED TO POOP”. I was only mildly mortified and played it off cool in the moment by politely excusing myself and taking my tone-deaf child to the washroom.
The bathroom required a passcode and try as I might, the code was not working on the ladies washroom. Things were getting desperate and my five-year-old said, “Uh-oh” with a look of horror on her face. I proceeded to gallop to the men’s washroom, my child under my arm as I ran because I decided I must have been given the men’s washroom code. Sure enough, the public men’s washroom popped open and I ran to the toilet only to discover the worst possible outcome. I was too late.
So now, I am stranded in the men’s washroom in a financial building downtown, with my five-year-old who has pooped her pants. I assessed what to do next because her replacement clothes were located back in the office and I was completely lost on how to proceed. Suddenly, the washroom opened and a torrent of men walked in. I was mortified and prayed my daughter would remain inconspicuous. My five-year-old had other plans and instead yelled, “MOMMY WHY ARE WE IN THE BOY’S WASHROOM?”. An awkward silence spread over the room while I put my hands in my face in defeat.
Another man then walked in, while whistling a merry tune. Suddenly the tune went silent when this merry music maker said, “Kaeleigh?”. My boss, of all people, had walked into the washroom in the midst of my parenting crisis. Luckily he is a stand-up fellow and once I explained my dilemma through the stall, he tore off to grab the backpack and I got my daughter cleaned up.
We had a good laugh over the situation after the fact, but it did teach me the number one, most important working parent rule in the world; always be prepared for the unexpected, and then laugh it off when your world gets turned upside down by your child.
