Why hello there, it’s me, the adorable toddler who has conveniently plopped down on the CEO’s lap just as someone began inquiring about the possibility of company-wide layoffs.
It was a valiant effort by you and your colleagues to critically question the company’s leadership and gain clarity on your uncertain future, but now you all can’t take your eyes off my perfectly pinchable cheeks. It’s like my Elmo onesie has completely diverted your attention from the consequences facing you and your families at the hands of my daddy.
It’s a shame because Brian from recruiting had just posed a great question on what the hiring freeze means for your jobs and ability to support your loved ones. Too bad you’re preoccupied with the drool on the edge of my lip that is endearingly close to falling on the keyboard and haven’t noticed that your boss has completely sidestepped the question.
Is this company looking out for the best interests of its employees or just its shareholders? You had that question loaded up since yesterday afternoon and now my eyes that are too big for my head have distracted you from it and the outrage that your employer may leave you without health benefits in the midst of a pandemic.
These are hectic times for working parents who are also care-takers so the occasional child interruption on Zoom is understandable. In this case however, my dad and I rehearsed this last night. If someone so much as suggests considering “executive pay cuts instead of layoffs,” that’s my cue to start crying (if I can pull off a cute whimper my contract says no green vegetables for a week).
Of course, I have a contract in place for my diversionary services. Dad’s initial compensation offer was to put me on his shoulders and spin me around three times in exchange for me simply showing up and railroading employee efforts to inquire about their future. But given how desperate he was to avoid being held accountable by you all, I was able to work out some performance-based sweeteners. If at any point I can visibly poop myself, allowing my dad to understandably leave the meeting altogether, we eat nothing but pudding for a month.
Even if you somehow snapped out of this trance and remembered the scathing thoughts you had on the leadership team’s incompetence, my innocence presents another roadblock. Let’s face it, for you to go on that planned expletive-laced tirade on the mismanagement of the company in front of a toddler like myself, would be pretty fucking irresponsible.
Well would you look at that, I’m receiving word that due to the uncertain conditions of the economy the terms of my contract will no longer be honored and it’s broccoli for dinner tonight. I’ll hop out of here now. Fire away folks.