I'm so glad you were able to get your stick!!   

That's a good story! I'm glad you were able to get the stick! 

So, I just got back from babysitting the nephew.  My brother had to be at a wedding in OH, and my SIL had to be at a wedding in GA, and I am now the closest relative.  I took a half-day off work to be there in time. 

The nephew is 21 months old with dark gold curls, big hazel eyes, red cheeks, perfect little white teeth and a smile that would melt the heart of W.C. Fields.  On a scale of 1-10, with one being Karl Rove and 10 being a basket of fluffy kittens, the nephew easily ranks an 11.5.  I’m a bit biased to be sure, but the kid’s seriously adorable.  Did I mention that he’s 21 months old? Auntie 13 is not used to 21 month olds. 

Friday night was essentially uneventful, except that he talks in his sleep.  Three or four times during the night he’d call out or cry and I’d be on my feet, glasses in hand, poised to run into his room to check.  This assured that I didn’t sleep well.

The nephew woke up at 6:09 AM!  Did you know that it’s still dark at 6:09 am?  I never thought about it before because I’m always sleeping at that time.  I have a hard enough time summoning some semblance of good cheer before noon, but at 6 in the am my general posture and demeanor is like that of a Neanderthal—and a Neanderthal with a hangover at that.  Worse still, the kid was obscenely cheerful for someone who was awake before sunrise.

I barely made it through to naptime at 11:30, and he decided that he’d rather not nap.  Auntie 13 is generally easy-going—my philosophy is that it isn’t my job to raise him, I just have to keep him alive till Mama and Daddy get home—but I decided that he by God was going to take a nap if I had to fill him full of Benedryl.  He slept on his own and I napped too, for 2 blissful hours, which turned my not enough sleep headache into a too much sleep headache.  Ah well.

For the rest of the afternoon we played.  We played in the sandbox and played “Serial killer buries bodies in shallow graves and CSI Nephew digs them up again.”  The victims were 2 blue crabs and a red fish.  The killer turned out to be the green turtle since he knew he’d always be secondary and he couldn’t handle it.  His final victim was to be the yellow starfish who was saved because I was too tired to scooch around to the other side of the sandbox to bury him.  That’s what I was playing anyway.  The nephew might have had a different slant on things. 

We also watched more videos than were strictly necessary (see my philosophy above).  I am now thoroughly steeped in the oeuvre of Elmo, and I got caught up on Sesame Street.  One tape had an opera singer dressed as an Egyptian queen singing “C is for Cookie” arranged as an aria (while they didn’t say, I assume it was from the opera “I Eata”.  Sorry.  Bad pun.  I’m still a bit punchy), which was brilliant and I want a copy for myself.

Against my pleading, the nephew was exposed to Barney and he insisted on watching the creepy thing.  Barney makes me uneasy.  I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if, after taping, he sucked the souls out of those kids.  The older ones especially have strained manic smiles pasted on their faces while singing those irritating songs.  While the nephew danced, I lurked in the corner of the couch muttering “the power of Christ compels you” at the screen.  He is going to be so embarrassed in a few years when he remembers dancing to Barney.  And Auntie 13 is going to be right there to remind him. 

Around 8 pm on Saturday the best thing ever happened—my dad, the beloved Pa-Pa--arrived.  Gramma and Pa-Pa have the kid all next week and dad came to pick him up.  Dad is a morning person which is incredibly fantastic because the nephew got up at 5:45 am on Sunday.  I handed him over to Pa-Pa and crawled back in bed.  I didn’t sleep any better Saturday than on Friday. 

I also took care of their 130 pound black lab mix that is essentially a rug that eats.  And eats.  And eats. 

I was nervous about babysitting, though it went quite well, but everyone here at the office kept giving me these annoying smug smiles.  “You’ll want your own when you get back” they say.  Well, I’m back.  And…I don’t.  I love the nephew but I’m very happy to get back to the cats.  They can’t talk and they take care of their own excrement.  Plus, if they wake up at 6:09 am I can ignore them and go back to sleep and no-one will call the cops. 

Well, congratulations on surviving being Auntie!  My sister has 3 kids.  They live in Michigan and we live in Arizona.  Ain't life grand?
As I type this Jupiter is asleep on the floor at my feet, Ziggy is asleep on the back of couch and Sweetie is around somewhere.  Ahh, no babies for me!!!

Three things:

I finally get the joke. Aida!

According to the theme song, Barney is supposed to be imaginary. Doesn't that make people suspicious?  

Ahhhhh aren't you glad you have cats? ? ? ? ?

Anais

edited to fix accidental smiley

ROFL!!!

I love little kids..

..as long as I have someone to give them back to!

LOL! I felt that way too when someone got my debit card number and charged stuff to me. But seriously, it's a good thing that your credit card company caught on (eventually) and that you don't have to pay for those charges. I hope that hacker gets what's coming to him--and I don't mean the computer goods.  *EVIL*