What about it? You ask. Well, ask my four years old who spoke of it.
The new uniform I got recently was one of the latest corporate Do-It-Or-Else policy for safe guarding their image. Apparently, they were not happy with the non uniformed attire that the staff wore and decided to change the uniform as a whole, for all concern units, at one go. The women on the administration side got to wear lovely grey pants with a matching striped shirt and a high waist short vest coat. The uniform was as cute as a button. It safe guarded the company’s front line image but not our back end image. I am sure you are getting the drift. I felt like a waiter at the Hilton. All that was missing was a tray and a cap!
Later on during the day, I sat with my gloomy face wondering how to avoid the costume. It made me feel like the waiter (sans the tray) and a club dancer (sans the music); at the same instant. Being blessed with a figure that has no rival, it was my destiny to be eternally frustrated at getting the things that I liked to fit me. My daughter and I were constantly fighting over what was proper to wear and the CORPORATE uniform was not helping. I had insisted on no short shirts or skirts; only to find to my dismay that my uniform was short of cloth by my standard and hers!
To dispel my gloom, I sat with her to watch animal planet. The documentary was on ostriches. It was truly engaging to watch with the ostrich sticking its head in the hole and the footage on a man being chased for getting close to an ostrich egg. We laughed all through. During the evening, I decided to try the outfit again to get used to wearing it to the office. I complained loudly on how the office has turned out to be a zoo full of animals with the new uniform. My daughter came in and listened to the conversation, while dangling her legs carelessly. Her father was keeping his silence at my appearance. He was well known for his tactless comments as I was for my temper. By mutual consent, neither of us asked an opinion nor offered one.
“Mummy, what is this new thing that you are wearing?’ she asked, skipping on the bed.
“A uniform. Do you like it?” I asked as I twirled around.
She looked up and she looked down. “I can see your bum. How come you get to wear a short shirt and I am told to change? This is not fair, Mummy. You should try wearing my clothes!” she huffed.
“Honey, this is my uniform. I can’t change it”
“Why not? Does your boss like to see your bum?” she asked in surprise.
Good question. Children say the weirdest of things!! I looked at my husband for help. He smirked. He had tried for the last hour to remain with a dead pan expression. He was clearly not succeeding.
“Do I look smart?” I asked with a sinking heart.
She thought for a while. One could see the tiny wheels turn around in her head while her legs returned to dangled in precision to reach a decision.
“Remember the ostrich, mummy?” she asked. I nodded hesitantly.
“You look just like it. All you need is feathers to make you beautiful. ”
And with this statement she disappeared into the kitchen and brought me a duster which was promptly tucked into the belt loop to resemble a feather tail.
My husband lost the battle to humour. He roared in laughter while I stood baffled trying to decide whether to feel insulted or humoured. I decided to get a blazer to cover the rear that needed the wonderful duster/ feathers. The next day at work, I was waiting for the comment I dreaded hearing so much… “A cup of coffee, pls…”
I kept muttering under my breath. The bosses looked all dandy and we subordinates looked like the waiters.
“Don’t you look cute like a button…” cooed one of my female bosses.
“Cute, my Ass...” oops, that was what started this at the first place…my a**.
“You look so dignified, like …like….” she groped the air for words.
“A waiter?!” I offered helpfully.
“That too…but the word I was looking for was…like a beautiful bird!”
“I bet the ostrich was beautiful to the ….” I thought a bit Who thought the ostrich was beautiful? Not me in a million years!!! I guess I was truly in despair. I hated my uniform. If only I were 4 yrs old…I could howl!!
I came home dejected. The first person I saw was my first born with a picture of a bird that resembled an ostrich. Cotton ball feathers were stuck all over it and she gave it to me with a big smile saying… “I think the ostrich is a nice bird mummy. It is big and fights with anyone who takes its baby away. You are just like the ostrich in the zoo… it is so big and beautiful.”
There was a loud snort and wail that resembled a laughter being controlled unsuccessfully, but that didn’t bother me. After all, my daughter thought the ostrich was great…sans the cotton balls…and the tall neck….maybe the big fluff rear….or the….. huge eyes.
Oh! Never mind….Ostrich in the zoo….