Pam THs that she's looking forward to Take Your Daughter to Work Day, because she wants to get better with kids. "Because I'm getting married," she concludes. It's not immediately clear how A relates to B until you take a moment to think about whom she's getting married to. She talks about all the extra candy she's setting out on her desk. "Just like the witch in Hansel & Gretel," she realizes. Michael comes in, acting gross, and Pam tells him to knock it off, pointing to the big WELCOME DAUGHTERS banner she's hung up behind her desk.
Michael complains in a TH about how his R-rated self is not suitable for exposure to kids. "I am like Eddie Murphy in Raw, and they are trying to make me like Eddie Murphy in Daddy Day Care. Both great movies, but still." He had me, and then he lost me.
Michael tries to duck into his office, but Pam tells him to say something to the kids who are there, orbiting their respective parents. Why she wants to warp the minds of her coworkers' offspring (and Kevin's future stepdaughter) I have no idea, but Michael grudgingly introduces himself. By way of explaining his position, he calls himself Superman and the employees citizens of Gotham City. "That's Batman," Jim and Dwight say in perfect unison, the first time that has ever happened. Michael decides to be Aquaman instead, shutting himself in his office with a muttered, "I work with a bunch of nerds." Wet and ready, bro!
Toby herds his daughter Sasha, an adorable little girl of about four or five (I can tell because she's older than my son and younger than my niece), past Dwight in the break room as Dwight intones at her, "Hello, tiny one. You are the future!" Move faster, Toby.
Kevin is boringly explaining the various parts of his workspace to Abby, his fiancée's daughter. I'm guessing Abby is about nine or ten, but that may not be reliable, given the fact that all of my recent experience with that age group was in recapping Kid Nation. Abby politely listens and nods. She's obviously way smarter than Kevin, who is already wondering how he's going to fill the rest of the day. But in a TH, he remains hopeful. "I just hope she doesn't look on my computer," he cracks, and then dashes off as he realizes that isn't actually funny.
Michael drops a folder on Stanley's desk, and Stanley reintroduces his daughter Melissa. Michael dutifully makes some polite noises, then, because he can't stop himself from being gross about Stanley's daughter, keeps going about how good-looking Melissa is and to keep the frat boys away from her. Melissa is, of course, in middle school. "An extraordinary time," Michael flounders. And then he THs that he'd rather be a fun uncle than a dad, because nobody ever rebels against a fun uncle. They do when they learn the word "drunkle." Which Michael probably hasn't.