I spent Saturday night babysitting for my girlfriend's two young sons so she could work while her husband attended a social work function. She was desperate when she asked me, so I agreed with minimal arm twisting. I love her little boys. No fool, I went armed with what I knew her 4 year old would lose his mind over: my iPad. When I got there, this one's father said his son had just endured the longest day of his life wondering when Miss Rudee (that's what he calls me) would finally get there.
We spent the next 5 hours playing. In this enormous toy house, they only wanted what was mine. Including the "balls" in my bag. I'd only turned my attention to the chicken nuggets in the oven for two seconds when I found 3 "balls" of yarn had somehow gone flying across the room which one of the dogs took to be an invitation for a great game of catch.
Somehow I'd forgotten how energetic and creative little boys can be. It's funny how time has a way of erasing these things.
To completely distract the 4 year old, I introduced him to the Photobooth application on my iPad and went about trying to keep the younger one entertained. Talk about trouble. That one--a sixteen month old baby-- is Trouble with a capital T. He is so Quiet (with a capital Q) and I found I couldn't take my eyes off him for one second. He is extremely allergic to milk--anaphylaxis allergic--so I kept one eye on him, another on what he put in his mouth and used the two eyes in the back of my head to watch the pantry and the epipen. I was half terrified that something bad would happen on my watch. I needn't have worried though...as soon as he found it, he was enthralled with my iPhone pretty much the entire time.
There wasn't an electronic device that wasn't covered in fingerprints and drool when I went home. At one point, the baby had even found my keys and pressed the alarm button for my car. For about 5 minutes, I walked around my friend's huge house wondering who the idiot was with the car alarm that wouldn't shut up. Me.
When I got home Saturday night (completely exhausted), I browsed through Photobooth to see what photos the 4 year old had taken of himself. There were about 150 of them. It took me about a half hour to go through and delete most of them (too many taken of the ceiling.) The rest I'll keep in case I need a reminder how hard it is to take care of two young boys.