3-Year-Olds Are The Same As Asshole Bosses

For the purposes of this post, I am a scientist. I am currently bordering on having my third child turn three. Scientists use data and rigorous testing to develop a hypothesis. Considering I am knee deep in a shit sea of test tubes containing three year old children as specimens, you can call me doctor.

Every person has had the distinct pleasure of working for a boss who had no business managing human beings, primates or any classification of mammal. Someone who, you imagined through angry eyes and gritted teeth, struggled to put on pants in the morning. Yet, miraculously, this person made it into the upper echelons of “The Man(agement)”. For the purposes of this study, we will refer to these test subjects as: Asshole Bosses or simply Asshole, for short.

Your Asshole Boss and The Three-Year-Old Child. Hypothesis – They are exactly the same.

A bold statement to be sure, but, rest assured that I have examples, facts and data to back up my claims. I am, after all, a scientist.

FACT 1: Vacation? Restroom break? Lunch?

Asshole Boss: FUCK YOU. You are on their timeline. You can leave your desk when they are done with their morning marathon of high-fiving and solitaire playing with Hank, V.P. of Accounts. You don’t leave your desk until they leave their desk for their mid-morning, early afternoon, after lunch or pre-evening cappuccinos.

Three-year-old: FUCK YOU. You are on their timeline. You don’t leave your station next to them until they are done with their morning marathon of sitting on top of the cat and hiding the remotes. Don’t even think of going to put on real pants until they’ve had breakfast, breakfast snack, post-breakfast snack snack and pre-lunch snack.

FACT 2: Embarrassing you in public.

Asshole Boss: Doesn’t know what the FUCK they are talking about. It’s a good thing you are there to correct their incoherent jibber-jabber in meetings, conference calls and lunches with clients.

Three-year-old: Doesn’t know what the FUCK they are talking about. It’s a good thing you are there to explain their incoherent jibber-jabber in play groups, during doctor visits and lunches with friends you’ll never see again when you explain that HOO-HAW means donkey and DamnItPenis is just how they say Uncle Dennis.

FACT 3: You have plans?

Asshole Boss: You have a date night scheduled with the lover? You’ve been planning it for months? You bought a new dress? FUCK YOU! A last minute deadline just came in. Asshole Boss would complete it, but, see Fact 2. They don’t know what the FUCK they’re talking about. You’re going to have to pull an all-nighter so douchetastic fantastic can look good at tomorrow’s board meeting. You’re not going anywhere.

Three-year-old: FUCK YOU! I rubbed my face against the kid with pink eye four days ago because I saw you online buying a dress. You’re not going anywhere.

FACT 4: All of the work. None of the credit.

Asshole Boss: You do everything for them. You hold their hand through board meetings. You compile the reports. You write their e-mails and sweep up the pieces of disaster when they branch out to send correspondence without checking in to ask if any of the data they spewed was accurate. You make the calls and put in the time. You get a $5 Olive Garden gift certificate at the end of the year. You trade it in for a bottle of Boon’s Farm and call it a day.

Three-year-old: You do everything for them. You get a swift kick in the vagina as you carry their screaming, stiff body to bed. You call it a day with the 1/4 bottle of flat champagne you found in the refrigerator behind the leftover ravioli they threw at you earlier during dinner at The Olive Garden.

FACT 5: You need the job.

Asshole Boss: They have you where they want you. Sure, the pay is shit, you don’t have dental and they just took away your parking space to give it to Asshole Boss’s 16 year old, but, hey, a job is better than no job. You stick it out while sticking pins into that cool voodoo doll you got in the French Quarter from that nice lady with the two dozen chicken heads hanging from her ceiling. Good times.

Three-year-old: They have you where they want you. Sure, the pay is shit, you don’t have dental and you didn’t have a parking space to begin with, but, you can’t even imagine not having the 3-year-old. Besides, you love that little asshole. Good times.

As you can see, scientific data doesn’t lie. The constant is the behavior. The only variable in this highly respectable study is love. When it comes to that, 3-year-old has Asshole Boss beat by a landslide. Still, even given the variable, I think you’ll agree these findings are not without scientific merit. All experiments were done in a controlled setting, excluding the key love element which would explain why you keyed Asshole Boss’s car yet gave your 3-year-old 100 hundred kisses, 15 readings of Goodnight Moon and 4 glasses of water tonight before bed.