A guest entry from Aunt Jen
I never knew how wrong I was…
So I got to babysit for my little Boo last night. I was looking forward to it and feeling really confident about my ability to keep him safe and entertained for a few hours. Well, I managed the safe & entertained part, but I overlooked one crucial detail: I DO EVERYTHING WRONG.
Pretty much from the time the folks’ left for dinner, every decision I made did not meet the exacting standards of my four year-old dictatorial nephew.
Art project error: I brought some fabric pens and plain white tees so Liam and I could do art projects. But apparently Mommy hadn’t told me that Liam’s progressed from 3T to 4T. I was properly chastised for my inaccuracy: “Don’t you know I’m bigger now???”
Potty error: He had to pee. Rock on, I can handle that. Into the bathroom we went, where he wholly climbed out of his shorts and undies. Peeing commenced; peeing completed. I thought, “Heck, it’s 6:15. All we’ve got left is dinner and bath time. Let’s just put the undies back on and throw the shorts in the hamper.” BUT NO. One cannot eat dinner in just undies and a tee shirt. It is unheard of, and
unacceptable. The look he gave me reminded me of disdaining manor lord in a PBS Masterpiece Theater presentation. So of course, we dressed appropriately for supper and headed to the dining room.
Dinner time error: I made his sandwich wrong. How did I mess up a basic turkey and bread sandwich? I asked him how many slices of turkey he wanted. “I don’t care,” he lied. I put three slices on for him. Automatic rejection: “I don’t care” translates into exactly four slices. Now you know.
Dessert error: Cookies for dessert! I hand him the little snack-size bag and tell him to eat them at the table, over his dinner plate to catch the crumbs. “I don’t eat cookies over my dinner plate! I’m done with dinner. I eat cookies over a napkin!”
Bath time errors (oh yes, more than one). Into the tub my grungy little Boo goes. I figure we’ll play for a bit and then get down to serious cleaning business. Bath toy fun commenced. A few minutes in, I decide it’s time to wash his hair. “You were supposed to do that first!” What kind of loser doesn’t know the proper bath time agenda?
But my gravest error of the night: I USED THE WRONG TOWEL. I didn’t know not to use the towel from the towel rack. Liam has his own towel, which is of course hidden two rooms over in Mommy and Daddy’s closet. Seriously, the look this kid gave me when I tried to wrap him up the big green towel. It was like I’d grown a second head, but neither one had enough brains to properly dry a wet kiddo.
There were additional mistakes over the evening, of course: I brush his teeth wrong. I floss him wrong. I put bath toys away wrong. I put on his PJ pants “weird.” I read books with the wrong voices. But dag-nabbit if we didn’t have the best time hanging out together. I have never had so much fun being so