One day, for 10 minutes, my job seemed dangerous, scary, and fascinating to my kids.
I was a dry, hot summer night. The only respite from the heat was the cooler air in the basement. Luke was lying on top of his covers reading, and Jack and I were snuggling (the kind of snuggling where you try not to touch too much, if at all), and reading a bed time story. My phone rang, interrupting Magic by the Lake, and I answered it.
It was a co-worker in India and he said, “HI Megan. We are working on blah blah blah customer’s ticket and you requested that the database be taken out of archive log mode, and the backups turned off. But the backup is currently running. Should we wait, or…”
I handled it. Then I hung up and looked at four wide eyes staring at me. Because what the kids had heard was:
“This is Megan. Kill it. Just go ahead and Kill it. Thanks, goodbye.”
I had to admit I enjoyed the stares. I was intriguing. Maybe dangerous. Maybe what I do is illegal. Maybe immoral.
Then explained was telling someone that it was OK to kill the backup. It’s like pulling the plug out from the light instead of turning it off. Kill the lights! It’s like turning the wii console power off in the middle of a level instead of saving your progress, exiting the game, and then turning the power off with the remote. Or it’s like… oh nevermind, my job is back to being boring again and I just put everyone to sleep.
It was fun while it lasted.