I swore to myself that I would not discuss my job on this blog. I’ve read about people who wrote about work on their blogs and ended up getting fired over it. I don’t want to be one of those people.
Rule number one–DO NOT DISCUSS WORK OR PEOPLE I WORK WITH EXCEPT IN BROAD BROAD GENERALITIES, AND NEVER IN A NEGATIVE WAY. Easy as pie. So far so good.
BUT . . .
I can’t resist
breaking bending the rule. Just this one time.
There is a certain person that I have worked with for over 11 years now. Let’s call him Fred for the sake of anonymity. Fred has known me since I was 22–since I started working at THE PLACE THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED. Right after I got married, at age 25, he jokingly made a reference (while I was holding a co-worker’s newborn baby) that he couldn’t wait until I had children. He meant it kind of like “just you wait, you have no idea what you’ll be getting into.” Fred made a couple more comments later on to the same effect, and, I’ll admit it, some of them were even funny–it became an ongoing joke.
That joke should have ended years ago.
Fred laid off on the comments for a few years actually, and I thought that he was at the point that he realized that he shouldn’t be asking me about having children. We have no relationship outside of work–we aren’t friends. At work we talk, we joke, we exchange “hi, how are ya”s and “how was your weekend”s. That’s it.
This past week, after YEARS of not making any reference at all, he says, “So, when are you going have a kid or two?”. Not as part of a conversation. Just . . . out of the blue. I was a little irritated. It’s none of his business. But I’m an easygoing kind of person, so I blew it off. We’ve all said things we wished we could take back–maybe that’s how he felt after he made that comment. Whatever.
Two days later, he made a similar comment. “So, no kids yet, huh?” Did he want me to say that I had just adopted a 2 year old yesterday, and, yes, now I have a child? That I got a coupon for a free kid out my cereal box this morning? What was he trying to accomplish by asking that? When my grandmother asks me that question, I reply “Nope. But we’re sure having fun trying!” Which causes her to blush and my grandfather to guffaw and slap his leg. But they’re family. It doesn’t bother me. Much. I don’t know if Fred just caught me at a bad time or what, because instead of blowing it off I immediately snapped back, “No. Sorry. No kids yet. You know, ever since I miscarried last year, I’m not really that into discussing if and when I’m having children. I don’t ask if you had a vasectomy after your fourth kid was born or if you use condoms or whatever, so I’d appreciate it if you butt out of my business. But thanks for asking.” I glared at him, turned on my heel, and left the room. I stayed in my office the rest of the day.
I mean, really, who has the nerve to ask a 33 year old woman who’s not even a friend if/when she’s going to have children? I’ve been pissed ever since. Get some couth, Fred. And get your head out of your ass.