I will be the first to admit that the life of an intern is rarely glamorous. I accept my fate, punching numbers into a spreadsheet, filing papers, organizing endless backcopies of previous ads just to pay my dues.
However, I was lucky enough to have the task on babysitting last Friday. Now if you know me, you'll understand that this is the most glamorous thing I could hope to happen during my internship. There are many who would sooner spoon out their eyeballs than spend 8 hours with little children but for me, it was a gift from the heavens. At heart, I am still approximately six and a half so when Ronan, Luke and Gracie entered the office last Friday my heart skipped a beat. I immediately informed by boss (in a most professional manner) that I wouldn't be completing any work for the rest of the day unless building forts qualified.
And so it went. I made forts, played bowling with cups down the hall, read stories about soliders and drew pictures with highlighters. I was even informed by the twin three year old boys, that if they had to guess my age, they'd say I was about 60. Grace of course, older and more mature in her ways scoffed at them, pointing out that I certainly looked younger than 60. I was clearly 35.
Around 3 we decided it was time for a snack. Gracie grabbed some microwaveable popcorn, and the four of us raced to the kitchen. Ronan popped the bag in, Luke hit 2:00. Gracie hit START and as I complemented such effortless teamwork we walked back to read a bit more before our snack was ready.
It's common knowlege that cooking isn't one of my strong points. (Understatement of the century). So, when I smelled burning popcorn I can't say I was shocked. However, when the four of us ran back to the kitchen to see smoke billowing out of the microwave, we were all a little surprised.
I stood frozen as the children began coughing dramatically. I was about to jump into action when the fire alarms went off. Now, paralyzed by crippling embarassment, I could do nothing but stare as one by one employees peeked out of their cubicles to see what was going on. Finally, my boss sprang into action, opening the microwave and throwing the smoking bag of popcorn into the sink. When it became apparent that the fire alarm could not be silenced, most everyone resigned themselves to evacuating the building as was proper protocol.
I chatted it up with the firemen because as I'm part of a long family line of FDNYers I speak their lingo. They weren't nearly as mad as I expected which I'll thank dad's lieutenant status for. Can't yell at a brother's daughter. It's the rules. Not to mention the fact that my face was the same shade of the truck probably garnered some sympathy.
Monday morning my boss informed anyone who happened to miss the chaotic scene that I pulled out all the stops to make sure his kids had a great time. They got to read, draw, run around, and even climb on a firetruck!
While I try to figure out how to best phrase this experience to put on my resume (Responsible for motivating 12 floors of people to work together? Developed creative ways to solve a problem?) I can find comfort in the fact that while Zoom may never hire me as a copywriter, they'll certainly call when they need a babysitter. Assuming there's nothing flamable, of course.
However, I was lucky enough to have the task on babysitting last Friday. Now if you know me, you'll understand that this is the most glamorous thing I could hope to happen during my internship. There are many who would sooner spoon out their eyeballs than spend 8 hours with little children but for me, it was a gift from the heavens. At heart, I am still approximately six and a half so when Ronan, Luke and Gracie entered the office last Friday my heart skipped a beat. I immediately informed by boss (in a most professional manner) that I wouldn't be completing any work for the rest of the day unless building forts qualified.
And so it went. I made forts, played bowling with cups down the hall, read stories about soliders and drew pictures with highlighters. I was even informed by the twin three year old boys, that if they had to guess my age, they'd say I was about 60. Grace of course, older and more mature in her ways scoffed at them, pointing out that I certainly looked younger than 60. I was clearly 35.
Around 3 we decided it was time for a snack. Gracie grabbed some microwaveable popcorn, and the four of us raced to the kitchen. Ronan popped the bag in, Luke hit 2:00. Gracie hit START and as I complemented such effortless teamwork we walked back to read a bit more before our snack was ready.
It's common knowlege that cooking isn't one of my strong points. (Understatement of the century). So, when I smelled burning popcorn I can't say I was shocked. However, when the four of us ran back to the kitchen to see smoke billowing out of the microwave, we were all a little surprised.
I stood frozen as the children began coughing dramatically. I was about to jump into action when the fire alarms went off. Now, paralyzed by crippling embarassment, I could do nothing but stare as one by one employees peeked out of their cubicles to see what was going on. Finally, my boss sprang into action, opening the microwave and throwing the smoking bag of popcorn into the sink. When it became apparent that the fire alarm could not be silenced, most everyone resigned themselves to evacuating the building as was proper protocol.
I chatted it up with the firemen because as I'm part of a long family line of FDNYers I speak their lingo. They weren't nearly as mad as I expected which I'll thank dad's lieutenant status for. Can't yell at a brother's daughter. It's the rules. Not to mention the fact that my face was the same shade of the truck probably garnered some sympathy.
Monday morning my boss informed anyone who happened to miss the chaotic scene that I pulled out all the stops to make sure his kids had a great time. They got to read, draw, run around, and even climb on a firetruck!
While I try to figure out how to best phrase this experience to put on my resume (Responsible for motivating 12 floors of people to work together? Developed creative ways to solve a problem?) I can find comfort in the fact that while Zoom may never hire me as a copywriter, they'll certainly call when they need a babysitter. Assuming there's nothing flamable, of course.
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