babysitting. my awesome husband texted me yesterday while i was hanging out with my dear giselle and told me that a manager at his work needed a babysitter. i jumped at the opportunity, of course. "you get paid to sit on babies? ummmm...count me in!" obviously, that's not how it goes in real life...it's more like they sit on you. or pee on you. or beat you up. fortunately, in my case, the two oldest kids had just gotten off of a video game grounding, so they really wanted to play video games and eat pizza. i got them to go outside and play football with me and the others -
did i mention that there were five of them? - for a little while. i was learning how to throw a football for the first time in my life. my instructor? an eight year old boy. it was great...until one of the older boys decided to push the two year old girl in the stroller as fast as he could and the darling two year old fell flat on her face, with the stroller still seat-belted onto her. the boy's eyes get wide and he says, "you're safe! look, cami!
you're still buckled in, you're safe!!" *insert face-palm*. telling him to apologize, and cleaning up many tears and grass stains and mini "boo boo's", i managed to gather the kiddos back inside.
the neighbor boy came over and rang the doorbell, offering the kids skittles in return for their friendship. they inhaled the skittles and then all bounced off the walls until two of them complained about being hungry. their mom gave me money to order pizza before she left, so i went about awkwardly calling papa johns and repeating the address i was at about a hundred times while the kids talked loudly in the background. the pizza arrived, and the youngest boy lunged at the pizza man and snatched the pizza box from his hand. i apologized and gave the man the money and the tip that the kid's mother told me to give him. he happily walked away. would you believe that the two year old girl ate the most pizza? their little neighbor friend went back home after the garlic sauce and bread sticks vanished.
the dog kept going into the bathroom and drinking out of the toilet. in the end, i decided to close the bathroom door to keep him from accessing his "personal water bowl". i asked the two year old, cami, what the dog's name is. she mumbled something along the lines of "foxyasdfnlweflkanskdfklaksdfnheeeeeeeeaaaaaad" - which is how she talks: in gibberish with a few understandable words - and the five year old girl translated, "his name is foxywoxypoopoohead". the name of their dog should give everything away about this family. i like them. i asked their mom (when she got home) if that was really their dog's name, and she said the kid's uncle named it and they liked it so much it stuck. since it's such a long name, they just call him "fox" or "foxy".
i was in the middle of hooking up the youngest's "kindle" with "yo gabba gabba" (i even know the name now. she said it sooooo much until i could understand her. i'm a pro.) when i hear the oldest yell, "MISS RACHELLLLLLL!!" and i dart into the other room. i find him, standing there, pointing at a humongous leaf-bug on the wall near the ceiling. i felt a tingle up my spine when i realized
he wants me to kill this thing. i looked around for something long so i wouldn't have to get near it or let it fall on my head. "are you scared?" i asked the oldest. he nodded and backed up. i realized that i had an audience. all the kids crowded into the room while "super rachel" flung at it with a fly swatter and smacked it on the second hit. it came fluttering down the wall and onto the ground. i proudly waved my swatter and put it back on the wall. the show was over, and the kids slowly went back to doing their own thing.
at the end of the night, i hooked two of the younger kids on UNO. i matched up with the five year old girl, and the eight year old boy was his own team. he stinking beat us: four to two. that little...little...champion. haha. it was a comforting scene, when their mother got home, we were all in the middle of the UNO "final championship" with the two year old scribbling on paper, the twelve year old playing his DS on the couch, and the ten year old somewhere upstairs on his DS playing pokemon.
i could so do that again. i wonder how she manages every day. the boys are so feisty, i can't imagine how she keeps them from tearing the house apart. in all, i'm really thankful for kids and i have a higher appreciation for mothers.