little kid says he has a job.
"I gotta go to wook amorrow, mumum. I'm sorry."
"You have to work? Tomorrow? Okay, that's cool."
"I sorry, but I gotta go to my job, mumum or my wook fwiends will be mad. One of my fwiends will hit me wif da gwill bwush."
"Your work friend hits you with a grill brush? That sounds terrible."
"It is. He's a mean guy."
"What's his problem? You should talk to Human Resources about him."
"Yeah, I'm gonna but I've gotta go into work amorrow, k?"
"Yep, that's fine. You've got to do what you've got to do. That's work."
He used to work from his office in the playroom, but now he says he works next door. He hasn't needed to go over there because he's had a couple of days off. He was supposed to work the night shift yesterday but had to call and cancel because we said he had to go to bed on time.
Apparently, he works on tractors and cars because he's always talking about how he had this or that vehicle up on a lift and had to take his work rag out of his pocket to take a plug out of the bottom of it, and how it was messy or difficult.
"I need a wook sirt, mumum. Wif buttons and a collar and my name, but no pictures or nuttin'."
"A work shirt? Like a mechanic shirt with a patch with your name on it or something?"
"Yeah, but a twactor dwiver sirt too, ya know? And a pen, I need a wook pen. I do lots of stuff for my job. I use tools and stuff, dwive twactors and motorcycles, put cars up on lifts and stuff."
"That's awesome. I had no idea."
I thought it was harmless enough to indulge this fantasy, but it has now morphed into an elaborate, almost constant alternate universe of lies and I hear about his work plans, friends or problems all day long. It is like having a second husband except he never leaves the house or makes money and he sometimes pees on the floor. He's interrupted me three times while typing this to tell me he has to work tomorrow and to show me a picture of some wood that he drew for his work friends.
So yeah, I'm rethinking the whole "just go along with it because it's funny" decision.
I think it sounds sweet :P That child has SO much imagination. Does BK know about the job? It might be a good idea to keep it from him or I'm sure you'll have to hear about all the safety concerns he has for lk. BTW - I love that he calls you mummum.
I think it is ok to play along. Just tell him that he has to work from home becuase you need him around to lift things or something. He'll go for it.
Hell, I am just thrilled that the next generation has some interest in work instead of laying on their asses like my generation!
He's just being a kid. The imaginary stuff will go away. Promise.
My work friends never draw wood for me! Lucky them
ask him where his paycheck is? ha-ha Tell him his rent is due! awwww, that is so mean of me!
My almost 4 year old is a firefighter; his station is located in the dining room. He must work in a busy area, because we're constantly hearing about what a bad call he had the previous night. Lots of "emergencies" happening out of his station, but luckily he seems to think his chief is doing a pretty good job.
he needs a work bench or a little people garage for christmas.
i love little kid so much.
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