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We have to multi-task around here.

And that's why I'm writing this while I watch The Office, drink wine, fold laundry, re-grow the hair that was yanked out of my head on the bedtime battle field, and marvel over the fact that now NBC is advertising commercials: See Ellen's new commercial for American Express! If it weren't for the crushingly compelling peer pressure that is NaBloPoMo, you wouldn't be privy to this stream-of-distracted-consciousness nonsense, but I can't resist. Resistance is futile. We WILL be assimilated.

The other day I was in the middle of one of my many rants about something not all that important, but something that I passionately insist on bringing to the attention of any poor sap around me, including and especially John. This time it was the fact that my company won't shell out the miniscule amount of money it would cost them to provide those lovely five-gallon water coolers for its employees. When I asked about it, I was told I could use the water fountain. The water fountain! Sure. I'll just take my half-gallon container to the water fountain and stand there for 45 minutes to fill it up while the rest of my department forms a dehydration protest line behind me. My only alternative to surviving on carbonated, caffeinated vending machine drinks has been to carry a bottles and bottles of water in left over plastic grocery sacks; I make the trek from my parking garage to my desk a middle class bag lady, a deafening kksshhh-kksshhh, kksshhh-kksshhh rustle the conspicuous soundtrack to my every step. Nice.

Bryce heard my rant the other night, and has apparently made it his new mission in life to brainstorm the solution for me, his uncreative mom. In the past two days, we've had at least three renditions of this conversation:

"Mom, mom. Here's what you do.* Okay. I have the solution* for you about how you can get your boss to give you water. You just have to tell your boss that you're thirsty."

"Yes, Bryce. I did that. But they still won't do it."

"Well, maybe you just have to ask NICELY."

"I did ask very nicely. But sometimes people just say no anyway. When that happens, we just have to accept it even though we're disappointed."

"No, no. I have another idea. Here's what you do: You sneak into your boss's office, and you TAKE HER PENCIL and run away! She'll be like,* 'Whoah! Where is my pencil?!' and then she'll HAVE to buy water for you!"

God, I love that kid.

*Yes, this is word for word. This is the way he talks. Always. (Except when he's screaming some five-year-old version of "you will regret the day you crossed me, minions!" during an undoubtedly unjust time-out session in his room, that is.)

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