Shortly after I started work, the office admin ordered a stapler and staple-puller for me. Because I didn’t have one of my own and always had to borrow one.
I put my name on both of them, so if they wandered off they would be returned to my desk. Whenever I need to staple something for my supervisor, rather than use hers, I walk the dozen or so feet back to my desk to get my stapler. At first she would offer her own, but by now she knows I like to use mine.
I was telling Alpha Geek about this little idiosyncrasy. “Whenever she tried to offer her stapler,” I told him, “I always wanted to say, ‘This is my stapler. There are many like it, but this one is mine.'”
“Without me, my stapler is useless,” said Alpha Geek. “Without my stapler, I am useless.”
“This is my stapler, this is my gun…!” I added.
The kids just stared blankly at both of us.