"Cleaning" Crew

This is one of the toys I have on my desk at work. I didn't used to have toys on my desk--nobody in my group did. But one time, when the group our group works with the most (the liasons between us and the sales people) came to visit (they're spread out all over the country), one of them noticed that we just don't have enough fun at our desks. So she bought a bunch of cheap toys, boxed them up, and sent them to our supervisor. There were enough for each one of us to get several different toys, but this blue toy was specially marked for me.

I try not to figure out what kind of shape it is, because I'm afraid it might be a bug, and then I wouldn't want to touch it. It's one of those water toys that you push the buttons and they make the water squirt the tiny plastic rings around, and you try to catch the all rings on the posts. But there are more rings than will fit on one post, and whenever you press one of the buttons, all the rings that are on the nearest post go floating back off the post and you have to start over.

The best I've done is to fill up one post, and that leaves three rings unposted. I consider this a success, and I rest it against my Kleenex box, so I can admire my great skill over and over again.

But once a week--it used to be Wednesday nights, but now it's Tuesday nights--the nighttime cleaning crew dusts our desks. Some Wednesday mornings when I get to work, not much has been rearranged, and some of the little plastic rings are still on the post. Those are good days. Other Wednesday mornings, my keyboard has been shoved away from the edge of the desk, and the folded paper towel I keep as a coaster (see lower right corner) has been thrown away, and all my little doo-dads and toys are where they don't belong. And my water toy has been knocked over, tipped over, or laid down nicely with all the rings off the posts.

I took this picture this morning. Notice how empty the posts are. That fat pinkish glob at the bottom of each post is the base where the first ring will settle. Notice all the little colored rings scattered around the bottom of the toy.

Doesn't the cleaning crew know the effort involved in getting those rings to be jettisoned from the lower right, up and over the right post, to be snagged and maybe tilted onto the left post? Don't they know to be careful with the trophies of our glory?

Each Wednesday morning brings with it that moment of dismay, when I see the sorry condition of my little blue toy. For its sake, though, I rise to the occasion and take the time to start getting those tiny rings back on the post. It may take me a few days to get them all (except for the three that don't fit), but then I can sit back again and bask in my glory until next Tuesday's cleaning crew comes along.