Sunday, December 12, 2010

Once, I babysat.

Sometimes, I babysit.

I really only babysit for one family though. Word must have gotten around about my lack of children skills, cuz families with tons of kids usually take one look at me and run.

Considering my lack of skills, I handled Friday night pretty well.

I love the kids I babysit for. There are four of them - 3 boys and 1 girl. We get along just fine. A funny thing about them is they love to hear about all my high school drama. Especially my boy drama. I had to start editing, however, when I told them certain things about a certain boy and they went and told his sister who then told said certain boy everything I had said.

Not saying that was the only factor, but lets just say if that hadn't happened there would be a chance that my life would be a lot better right now.

Still, I love them. And that really doesn't have anything to do with Friday night. Just a backstory.


It was like a scene straight out of a movie. Almost,
I got there, tried to teach them the Hoedown Throwdown, and they hated it. So that failed. Then they begged me to tell them all my high school drama, and I told them the more harmless things. I'm not taking anymore risks.
Then we watched How to Train Your Dragon. I would have liked it, except:
     It was kind of bloody annoying.
     It made me want a pet dragon, which I will never have.
    The main character's voice sounded just like an ex. So that was...distracting. And funny. But mostly distracting.

Anyways, we finished up the movie, and I took the youngest, Joseph, downstairs. I came back upstairs to get the rest of the kids ready for bed, when they informed me that Joseph had wet his pants during the movie, and they didn't want to tell me until the movie was over. So I, being the responsible babysitter, told them to go do something about it.

That was the first mistake.

Ten seconds later I hear 3 little kids screaming bloody murder. The two oldest ran upstairs to inform me that Joseph had kind of gone crazy and peed all over the downstairs.

My first thought was I was really glad I hadn't witnessed that. My second thought was that was really disgusting, and my third thought was what on earth am I supposed to do about this?

I didn't end up having to do much. I just convinced them to help clean it up and get Joseph ready for bed, and that was about it. In the moment though, there was some panic.

My point in telling this story is that this kind of thing happens a lot. My years of being a mother are bound to be interesting.

Anyways...peace out.

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