Note on my kitchen counter when I came home last night:
Tonight’s Babysitting Experience
- Your son fed the dog half his dinner
- I should have brought my bathing suit for bath time because your kids are freaking WILD
- No one went to bed on time
- I let them watch a movie and eat life savers. I hope you’re cool with that.
- Pete’s Dragon is such a lame movie. And old.
- Your son cried for his pacifier, but we couldn’t find it so I massaged his face until he could no longer resist my charms and he fell asleep.
- We watched Miss America. But only the talent portion where the girls played the piano, sang musicals, and performed terrible dance routines. Your daughter clapped for them all.
- Miss New York won.
- Basically, I’m the worst babysitter ever.
Love (followed by a lot of puffy hearts),
My reaction? You’re a rock star.
When my son woke up, he went searching the house in hopes that this sitter was now living with us, like a dear friend who came to stay for the Winter. Which confirms my belief that parents have an obligation to hire very young, hip people to watch their children so that offspring get a glimpse of what cool looks like.
Here’s to another night out very soon. . .