I had a PC show last Thursday night. It was a wedding shower for a girl at my church who is marrying a young fighter pilot and moving to Arizona, at least temporarily. (I mean living in AZ temporarily, not being married temporarily. I am confident that this union will last!)
Back to the point, please, Buffi...
So, I was running late when the babysitter got here. Miss A is a really sweet college student from my church. She helps out in SugarPlum's GA's meetings and with Bear's stuff as well. My kids love her. She is a Jr. at the local University and she is a biology major.
Blah, blah, blah....The point, Buffi, PLEASE, get to the point!
By the time I got to the show, I had less than half an hour to prep and set up. Five minutes before the show was scheduled to start, I get a phone call form Miss A. Bear had thrown up in the kitchen. And, she tells me, "I just don't do throw up. I'll stay here until you can get here (well, I should hope so!) but I just can't clean that up." Then she calls me back to assure me that Bear is fine, she just need me to come clean up the puke. GAH!!!!!
I got home, Bear and the others are at the table making play-doh (and a HUGE mess). I grabbed the dust pan, scoop up the little bit of vomit from the kitchen floor, throw nastiness - including dustpan - out, check on Bear (he was indeed fine), make a crack about how I can't believe that A is a biology major if she can't handle a little puke, and head back to the shower. By this time, one of the hostesses has taken over the prep work for me, thank goodness! But I was so flustered and off my game by then, I was just a disaster. I can't believe anybody ordered anything!
I had decided that I was really going to be pissed. I mean, I had to, essentially, come home from work to clean up a little mess. I'm sure glad Bug didn't poop in his pants or anything! Then I got home and the kids were all asleep and A was sweeping the kitchen floor, had cleaned up all of the play-doh mess (after she had let them make cool sculptures with their play-doh and then baked them so that they would harden and be permanent!), AND picked up the toys and dirty clothes in the living room. Then she told me how great my kids are and what big imaginations they have. Then we visited for a long time about people we both knew from the town where she grew up and a bunch of other stuff. And I decided that I couldn't hate her because, all in all, she is a pretty damn good babysitter.
I just have to hope that nobody pukes next time.
Back to the point, please, Buffi...
So, I was running late when the babysitter got here. Miss A is a really sweet college student from my church. She helps out in SugarPlum's GA's meetings and with Bear's stuff as well. My kids love her. She is a Jr. at the local University and she is a biology major.
Blah, blah, blah....The point, Buffi, PLEASE, get to the point!
By the time I got to the show, I had less than half an hour to prep and set up. Five minutes before the show was scheduled to start, I get a phone call form Miss A. Bear had thrown up in the kitchen. And, she tells me, "I just don't do throw up. I'll stay here until you can get here (well, I should hope so!) but I just can't clean that up." Then she calls me back to assure me that Bear is fine, she just need me to come clean up the puke. GAH!!!!!
I got home, Bear and the others are at the table making play-doh (and a HUGE mess). I grabbed the dust pan, scoop up the little bit of vomit from the kitchen floor, throw nastiness - including dustpan - out, check on Bear (he was indeed fine), make a crack about how I can't believe that A is a biology major if she can't handle a little puke, and head back to the shower. By this time, one of the hostesses has taken over the prep work for me, thank goodness! But I was so flustered and off my game by then, I was just a disaster. I can't believe anybody ordered anything!
I had decided that I was really going to be pissed. I mean, I had to, essentially, come home from work to clean up a little mess. I'm sure glad Bug didn't poop in his pants or anything! Then I got home and the kids were all asleep and A was sweeping the kitchen floor, had cleaned up all of the play-doh mess (after she had let them make cool sculptures with their play-doh and then baked them so that they would harden and be permanent!), AND picked up the toys and dirty clothes in the living room. Then she told me how great my kids are and what big imaginations they have. Then we visited for a long time about people we both knew from the town where she grew up and a bunch of other stuff. And I decided that I couldn't hate her because, all in all, she is a pretty damn good babysitter.
I just have to hope that nobody pukes next time.
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