The Executive

There are no excuses the executive will take. No, "I'm exhausted. Can this wait" or "It's been an hour. Can I stop rocking now?" The look says it all. And usually the look doesn't even come your way. It's a look off into the distance while she sizes up the situation. Rock rock rock....an hour later stop. Whamo, eyes open and stare straight into the darkness, eyebrows in full arch.

Something like this:



"Ah..excuse me Mame. I'm not sure why I put you down. Please allow me to rectify the situation," and it's back to rocking, or picking her up, or walking her trough the house, or...you name it. Whatever she likes.

This volley goes on-and-on until finally, at the crack of exhaustion and what appears will be utter defeat, we all fall asleep wherever we may be. Alas, sleep comes to her royal highness and we all soak in every precious, unconscious moment.

Nothing the Exec does is in the wrong. Be it never sleeping, or throwing up on you, the couch, the floors, or even when the exec has the flatulence of a grown Chicago Bears fan after a 15 beer tailgate, it's always, "Good job!" afterward. She can do no wrong.

But I jest. I can sit and rocking her for hours on end. I find myself in awe as the little one lays still in my arms knowing that someday, she'll get up and walk away never to be craddled again. So for now, Ms. Executive, your wish is my command.

The Executive is also getting quite talkative. Many "Ahgoo" are commanded, and repeated back to her in kind. And like any good executive, she loves hearing her statements repeated and shows her pleasure with unexecutive-like smiles as you can see here:



The executive would also like to wish a Happy Haloween. She showed up as Dracula one morning, a few weeks too early I might add, but like any good worker, I didn't mention it. She demanded I photograph her and post the photo for your enjoyment.


Okay, no fangs or anything, but the hair is close.

Regards from the assistant (me) to the President (Samran) of the Executive known as MJ Coffee.