So big bossman finally made a partial decision on who has to/gets to go to this show in two weeks. Basically it's this. My sort-of-kinda-but-not-really boss is going down on Tuesday but must leave on Wednesday. *IF* I want to I can go down Wednesday afternoon and stay through Thursday to take her place. But, I don't have to.
And since going means I miss my friend I've not seen in ages and it means my kids miss a birthday lunch with their good pal and since it means Grandma misses a meeting with her new boss for the part-time freelance work she's picked up...I'm not going.
In other late afternoon stories - I had some work to do on this show. The co-worker that was inputting registration information for the folks that are going was having trouble locating the right registration page. I helped her and offered to do half her list for her while we worked through the first form together. I get paid for the hours I put in so the stuff like this is worth it for the extra cash. Logan was getting worked up. He wanted to play a game. He wanted my attention. I let him up on my lap.
I pulled up my next registration form. "Logan, here, you type what I tell you." I started to feed him letters. He filled out three of the four forms I had volunteered to take on.
When we were done, I said foolishly "You know what happens when you work, don't you?"
"You get paid!" he screeched with glee. I asked him what his rate was.
"I get $20," he said. Geez, that kid makes more per hour than I do. I offered him a quarter.
"How about a quarter and a penny," he bargained.
The office is still IM'ing me. The other person doing the registrations can't confirm they were processed. I may do them later. Logan has come to the office/playroom/porch door and is yelling at me.
"MOM! Clifford is on, so you should come to watch and I need my money! Don't forget to pay me."