Greetings all staff and stakeholders of Coddled Teenage Boy Enterprises.
It has come to my attention that there is some confusion about your roles and responsibilities within the organization, which has led to infighting, yelling, and name-calling—this happened just yesterday, prior to 7 AM. Such behavior is both unprofessional and upsetting, and it is my job as the CEO and central “brand” of this enterprise to address this situation before it begins to negatively affect morale as well as my performance in the marketplace, also known as “high school and social life.”
First, a word about the incident that prompted this memo and took place at headquarters yesterday. Many of you, I know, heard it—or heard of it—and I need to clarify actual events to dispel any notion that the CEO of Coddled Teenage Boy Enterprises was at fault. Because, as you know, it’s never my fault.
The incident took place in the early morning. It concerned the puzzling logic that asserts two individuals traveling to the same school campus should to be liveried in the same vehicle, and therefore ought to be ready to depart at approximately the same time, even if one of us requires more careful and meticulous currying of my excellent hair and a careful consideration of which band T-shirt looks most awesome with my jeans. There was some crazy bellowing about did I know the price of a gallon of gas, and some asinine stuff about the driver’s own needs (don’t get what that means), and something—completely overwrought now—about how It’s all about you, isn’t it?
All of this made the second and final shuttling to school tense and unpleasant, and left me grounded this weekend, which is a wholly unacceptable result of what I see as a giant misunderstanding. The bottom line is that the sister involved in this situation is… well, clearly, a Sister Subsidiary. Known officially as The Easy Child Enterprise, the Sister Subsidiary should be staffed and run as a separate operation, independent of the needs of Coddled Teenage Boy LLC. Especially since a tenet of that aforementioned subsidiary enterprise is Hates to Be Late, whereas at Coddled we take a much more interpretive view of the clock.
Now that we have that out of the way, I’d like to get back to the business of this memo, which is to redefine and, in some cases, reassign the various roles each of you play in keeping this enterprise running. As you know, we have grown in leaps and bounds over the past decade, growing literally from a Mom-and-Pop entity to a conglomerate with endless, gaping needs and demands. While it once took only one or two people to feed, diaper and bathe me, it now requires an entire staff to manage the complex operation that is my life.
You might think that because I have learned to actually use my limbs purposefully and have mastered other basic life-skills (like the ability to read signs, or jot down a note, or climb bus stairs, or use the toilet) I might exploit those abilities to increase self-reliance. But, sadly, the answer is no. In ways that even I don’t really understand, it seems that the operation has grown more complicated than ever, and it requires additional resources and more staff than ever to maintain.
Last year in Math, we studied Inverse Functions, in which the sign f “acts on” a number and transforms it. Essentially, you can define the inverse of f as the function that “undoes” what f did. My understanding is some enterprises grow precisely like that: As new products are brought to market, or new services introduced, others are mysteriously negated. In other words, it’s not my fault that company operations have gotten multifarious and increasingly unwieldy. You can argue the application of this point to my situation—but not with me. Take it up with a mathematician.
So without further ado, herewith the new Job Titles as reflected in this most current Reorg of Coddled Teenage Boy Enterprises:
Manager of Livery Services—Dad (AM Manager), Mom (PM Manager)
Director of English Essays, Proofing and Editing Division—Mom
Laundry Services—Mom, Dad, Sister-When-I-Have-Something-to-Bribe-Her-With
Bag Lunch Boss—Mom, Dad
Homework Helpers—Mom, Dad, the Friends-Who-Actually-Take-Notes-in-Class Squad
Personal Belonging Tracker—Mom, Dad, various friends (Gordon, Zach, Janey, Chris, etc.) in various classes who run after me when I leave my various shit behind
Shower Timer—Mom, Dad, Sister-When-She-Needs-to-Use-the-Bathroom
Forms and Paperwork, Small Details Division—Mom
Dispenser of Petty Cash—Whichever parent drives us to the movies
Emotional Support Team—Pretty much everyone, all the time (note on-call hours)
The two remaining jobs still available at this time are:
Minister of Wiping My Ass
Director of I’d-Forget-My-Head-If-It-Wasn’t-Attached
Referrals welcome.
It is my dearest hope that this memo will help you to accept and relish the critical job you have as part of Coddled Teenage Boy Enterprises—and to see yourself for what you are: part of my team, because we are all in this together. As they say, there’s no “I” in “team.” And there’s no “Boy” in there, either… God knows I can’t do this on my own.
Regards,
Coddled Teenage Boy
P.S.: Has anyone seen my soccer shorts?
(From an original post at Annarchy.)
