From a Dad's View
Let's Go on a Family Business Trip!
By David Pereyra
My Carolina Office
Liesl's been planning this trip since she heard we were
going to South Carolina. "Are we going to my office?" she'd say, looking up suddenly from scribbling on a piece of paper. Her mother and I finally get to visit our daughter's Carolina
office. Wow. Though why she has an office in Charleston we've never figured
out.
Liesl and I are tagging along with Bette on this schmoozefest business junket. Bette's company is host to a group of VIP travel industry clients and this particular outing has always been the 'bring your spouse' trip. And where we go, goes Liesl. There's just a light schedule of meeting and greeting, Bette promises. Your days will be free. It'll be great. You can explore the city. Tour the historical district. Shop. Do whatever.
But being the tag along spouse on a business trip is the ultimate nightmare.
Maybe it's the chat and naked exposure of business at work: the networking, the gossiping, the odd comraderie. As the spouse of an executive women I feel the need to impress.
Eventually all conversation will suddenly stop while everyone looks intently right at you. Someone very high up on the food chain will then ask, smiling and friendly: "So, and what is it you do?" Uh, I uh, I, I . . . I write?
Saved by the Babysitter
The hotel is picture perfect: Charleston Place,
located right at Market and Meeting streets. I play with Liesl while Bette
checks in. I look up from speaking some insane secret Liesl and poppa
language to see Bette talking to a woman who looks awfully familiar. I
freeze, shrink back a bit and half hide behind some giant vase of lilies. I
should know this woman. My mind is in heavy rotation. Who is she? Bette
waves us over and as I approach, smiling and just being oh so relaxed, it
comes to me. This is our neighbor's mother. Of course she's standing here
with us at this particular hotel lobby miles from her home. That makes
sense.
Our room for the weekend looks out on Charles Bay and down onto Market Street. It's also stocked with chilled wine, fruits and cheeses. In my excitement and hunger I open everything, including various goods we find out later were the standard bar items stocked by the hotelyou know, those $10 bottles of 12 ounce water. But I find out I'm free. Free. Free from cocktails and dinner that night. A babysitter mixup. I see my exit for that evening's company get together. I immediately tell Bette, "No problem." I'll just take Liesl out for a bite. No, no no no. Go on, get ready. You're gonna be late!
When Bette leaves, looking lovelythose first impressions are key, I say with authority and no experience whateverLiesl and I move the sofa, turn the radio up and the TV on, and dance. "Play it faster," shouts Liesl as she does this funny little dance where she hitches her hip in an odd way a couple of times. She starts singing, "Let's get together yeah yeah yeah," and I have no idea why. I say, what the heck, and let her bounce on the bed, something that she's never allowed to do at home. "Faster," she yells again over the 60s and 70s hits music. Isn't this what hotel rooms and corporate family getaways are all about?
Tell Me About the Wizard of Oz
After Liesl picks out a tiny tiny handcrafted
basket made from palmetto grasses, the request beginsinnocently enough at
first. "Tell me about the Wizard of Oz," she says as we walk down to the
public fountain by the Bay. "Where's Dorothy when she sings 'Over the
Rainbow?' Why does the lion want courage? What's courage?" So, I begin
telling the story. "Why's Dorothy sad when she sings that song? And why does
she land on the wicked witch in Munchkin Land, where Glinda comes, floating
in a bubble. And why does Glinda say to the other bad witch, "You have no
powers here?"
I see a street vendor selling Italian ices and veer over. Liesl certainly can't talk and eat Italian ices at the same time. Bette's hired a playmate/babysitter for Liesl for the evening round of cocktails and dinner. It's casual, Bette promised.
Liesl wiggles into her swimsuit and heads to the fountains, which shoot water from 8 or 10 super nozzles built into stone platforms, showering a group of kids on a field trip. One of the teachers has guard duty and is amazing in her focus and stamina. A mother hawk. No nonsense. Swiftly moving in and collaring any perpetrator of the quicksilver fountain rules. "No splashing other people," she says, turning to me and smiling. Then she stops a child in her tracks with a command, walks over and marches her to timeout.
Liesl pats around at the edge of the action while I pack up. She's due to meet her mom for a manicure. I've opted for the spa treatment instead of a round of golf. The small perks of corporate America. I'm warming up.
It's a Small World After All
Instead of another early round of golf, I've
opted for the sightseeing trip out to the historical Middleton Plantation,
developed by Henry Middleton and famous for its stately gardens and imported
exotic plants. This would be our walk into the antebellum past, sans the
main residence which was burned to the ground on Sherman's march to the sea.
To my delight, I also discover that Middleton has an enormous 1000 year old
live oak.
A large white van drives our group through Charleston and into the South Carolina countryside, the driver elucidating historical anecdotes in her perfect drawl. Note how long this particular trip would have been by horse and carriage. Note that Charleston, up to the Civil War, was the wealthiest city in America. Note, it was rice that made all that wealth. Note, a city's wealth was directly proportional to the amount of mahogany wood furniture it imported.
Liesl sits comfortably on Bette's lap, snuggled under the seatbelt, as we wind through miles of live oak dripping with spanish moss. She sings softly, "It's a small world after all" over and over, sometimes whispering ever so lightly and sometimes giving the song a bit of bravado. After two days of togetherness, we're all becoming extended family. Soon the song is playing in my head and by the time we arrive at Middleton everyone on the bus is quietly humming, "It's a small world after all."
The Dinner Dilemma
This is it, I keep thinking. It's our last night in
Charleston and this is the decompress-have-fun dinner. Although Bette said
that dinner would certainly be a very casual evening, I knew the restaurant
and it was not casual. The Magnolia on Market. Liesl is looking forward to
having dinner with her people, as she calls her newfound friends. And sure
enough, the entire group is thereVIPs and corporate hosts, Bette's boss,
the president of the company.
As I scan the tables to find our seat, an odd, awkward thing happens. There is no seat for Liesl. Not even a place setting. Of course not, on these outings no one really expects you to bring you child. At least this is what I'm thinking. Now, I fear the ultimate grande version of the tag along spouse's nightmare: creating a scene. A child scene. A squabble even in front of Bette's peers. Just when I was feeling a bit of Liesl's 'these are my people' karma. I whisper to Bette, well, uh, is this going to be uncomfortable? I'm not sure if her smile is real or frozen.
She looks at me whizzically, her eyes saying, sshhhhhh. Quiet.
And no sooner do I broach the subject than her boss, the president, takes care of everything. A seat arrives and Bette's boss makes room for Liesl right there beside him at the head of the table.
After ordering wine and appetizers, Bette's boss amuses Liesl, and wins her over completely when he balances wine corks on top of each other, making a mini tower. "Isn't that cool," he says. She squeals her approval. I'm impressed and relieved. He's a giant. An easy going leader of people.
And then it happens. As we eat bread and drink wine, the boss's wife smiles at me, and asks, "So, what do you do?" And just like that, wine in hand, I smile back and tell her. This is what I do.
Recent Columns From a Dad's View
• What Do You Do, Dad?
• When the BlueSuitMom has to travel
• Deciding to become a stay-at-home dad
David Pereyra is a stay-at-home dad and the partner of a BlueSuitMom.
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Fatherhood Conferences The Third Annual National Summit on Fatherhood, Friday & Saturday, June 2 & 3, 2000, Hyatt Regency Washington on Capitol Hill, 400 New Jersey Avenue N.W., Washington, D.C. Among this year's awardees are: country musician Tim Mcgraw and former NFL quarterback Jim Kelly. Featured topics include Creating Local Fatherhood Initiatives; Creating State Fatherhood Initiatives; "What Ever Happened to Daddy's Little Girl?"; The 6 Basics of Being a Great Dad; and, Working with At-Home Dads |
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