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The original was posted on /r/maliciouscompliance by /u/Few_Tangerine5417 on 2025-07-14 07:00:49+00:00.

Ah, summertime. Sunshine, ice cream, and for working parents like me — a logistical nightmare wrapped in a childcare puzzle from hell.

A couple of years ago, I realized I was going to hit a problem over the 7-week school summer holidays. My co-parent and I split our annual leave to cover as much of it as possible, but we still had a 2-week gap with no childcare coverage.

Here’s the kicker: my kids were at that delightful in-between age where they don’t need 24/7 hand-holding, but you also can’t just leave them home alone for 10 hours a day unless you enjoy visits from Child Protective Services. They’re perfectly capable of entertaining themselves, but not quite old enough for full independence. Basically: no babysitter needed, but still need a warm body in the house. You know, just in case.

So I did the reasonable, adult thing. I submitted a formal work-from-home request 4 months in advance. I explained the situation clearly, provided specific dates, and even included a list of tasks I’d be working on. I made it as easy as humanly possible for my boss to say yes.

But no. That would be too simple.

Instead, I get called into a meeting where my boss (no wife and no kids), puffed up like a proud pigeon, says, “I’m not approving this. Your job can’t be done from home.”

Cue blinking.

“My job is literally a laptop and an internet connection. Why can’t I do it from home?”

“Because you’re an office-based employee,” he replies, as if that’s some sacred unbreakable vow, not just a line on an org chart.

I reiterated that this was a short-term request, I could absolutely manage my workload, and it was to solve a real-life problem involving, you know, actual children. Still nope. He tells me if I can’t come in, I’ll need to take unpaid parental leave.

Cool. If that’s how you wanna play it, let’s play.

So I took the unpaid leave. Stacked with annual leave, I was out for 5 full weeks. No emails. No meetings. No “quick check-ins.” Nothing. I didn’t touch a single work-related thing. My work phone and laptop were switched off and remained in a cupboard untouched for those 5 weeks.

Fast-forward to my first day back. My inbox looks like it’s been through a war. There are missed deadlines, forgotten follow-ups, and a whole bunch of “who was supposed to handle this?” floating around — spoiler: all of it was mine, because no one else does what I do.

Boss is fuming. He comes over and says, “I thought we agreed you’d stay on top of your emails while you were off, so you wouldn’t be so behind.”

I stared at him like he’d just told me the sky was green.

“Uh… what? You told me my job couldn’t be done from home. And I was on unpaid parental leave. That means I wasn’t working. At all. Per your instructions. Remember?”

He did not like that answer.

But hey — you made the rules, buddy. I just followed them exactly. Maliciously. Compliantly.