Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Take Your Daughter to Work Day
Poor little Faith. I must admit that "Take Your Daughter to Work" days for her must seem less like a reward and more like punishment. Instead of getting to watch her father do something exciting, she gets to crawl around in a 15 x 10 area and watch me talk on the phone (to which she signs the word "phone" repeatedly). Or she gets to watch me type--wow, how exciting. Daddy typing on the computer! Who knows what passions are already stirring in that little heart of hers, but I can tell you that "publisher" almost certainly isn't at the top of the list.
However, there are some fun things Faith enjoys about coming to work with me--or at least staying with me while mommy goes to the dentist. She's just learning to talk--and she likes to put to use every word she knows repeatedly. Therefore, coming to work with me means she gets to point and say one of her new favorite words: box. Now, this may seem like an odd word for a little girl to learn, but it makes good sense for two reasons.
First, Faith's favorite toy isn't the little bear that sings 12 different songs or the pig that laughs when you push its nose (although they're both a close second)--it's a box. Yes, a giant Pampers box. She tries to crawl in and begs me to push her down the hall, which I do until my either my back gives way or she giggles so hard that she can't laugh any more. Second, she's decided that she will learn all "b" sounding words first. "Baby" is another "b" word she likes to say until those four letters begin to lose their meaning.
So, my work is an emporium of boxes and books (another "b" word which she hasn't said yet but signs all the time). I couldn't resist the opportunity of snapping a few photos of her sitting on some of the boxes reading one of her new favorite books.
Today, we went outside for a few moments and I had one of those teachable moments with her at such a young age. There was a big pile of snow outside the door, which she instinctively grabbed and began putting in her mouth. I grabbed her hand before anything disastrous happened and brushed the snow away. "Never eat brown snow," I told her. Oh, the things you learn at work with your dad.