Conversations : Costco, holiday, gold watch.
(I frequently choose my checkout line based on which employee appears to be A) the most cheerful or B) the most interesting at the moment. If it's a tossup, Option B has the slight edge.)
Hi.
I said.
Here you go,
as I placed my membership card on the counter.
Okay,
he said briskly, in a manner which led me to believe he was either A) extremely efficient or B) having a not-so-good day and trying to shovel his irritation into aggressively scanning my items.
How's your day going?
I asked.
Okay,
he said briskly.
It's just fine.
Oh.
I said.
Is Costco a good company to work for?
He stopped his brisk scanning to look at me directly:
Thirty-one years.
he said.
Thirty-one years.
Really!
I said.
That's a good run. Have they treated you well?
He nodded emphatically.
Five weeks of vacation a year. That's not including fifteen paid holidays. So are they a good company to work for? Absolutely.
Absolutely,
he echoed himself, and shook his head, which seemed to mean the same thing as a nod:
They're one of the good ones. Couldn't ask for a better company to work for.
That's really cool.
I said.
I like to hear that. I think I'll keep giving you guys my business.
We finished up, and he finally smiled as I left.
More conversations below
Becca and I split parenting and work. One works, the other schools, plays, and raises young minds and hearts. Then we switch the next day. We have done a variation of this for over eleven years and going strong.
Strong-ish?
I am not avoiding the phrase SAHD (stay at home dad) for any particular reason, other than the fact that it doesn't quite apply in our case accurately. We both raise children, we both work, we both stay home at some points and work at other points. It's great when there's one parent to work five days and one parent to stay home five days or whatever, but that's not us. We keep things hopping and make things work. Most of the time, mostly well.