Saturday, March 23rd, 2013
2 years, 4 months.
Last Friday as I was just about to walk you out the front door of your daycare to take you to the park during my lunch break, you gave me a courteous announcement:
That’s good, because I don’t keep a separate diaper bag for you in my car. So I walked you back to your teacher, Ms. Heather, to have her change your diaper before we left on our excursion.
She gladly did, as she always seems so happy to do her job. But I admit, I felt like I wanted to tip her.
I never carry any cash on me anyway, but it just made me think:
Of all the annoying things I’ve ever felt pressured or obligated to tip…
like the bathroom attendant at fancy places I never go to anymore…
or the barista who I no longer buy coffee from because it seems even more insane to pay an extra 70 cents to get soy in my already nearly 5 dollar drink now that I’m a vegan…
it just seems that if anyone really deserves a tip, it would be anyone other than a family member who changes your diaper.
As I signed the bill as we left the ER earlier this week, I had to stop myself from doing the math to figure out what the tip was supposed to be. It’s just that the people in the emergency room who helped ensure your life was not in danger did a deed worth tipping for.
Changing your diaper and saving your life: Those are things that wouldn’t make me feel awkward, annoyed, or obligated to tip.
As for the bellhop… meh.
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