Tonight the Missus went out with her girlfriends to get some dinner and see a teenage vampire romance movie. She deserves it, because she takes excellent care of me and our young-uns, and she very seldom takes a night off.
One of her friends has a little boy who needed a babysitter, so we said, "Why not leave him with us? We planned to stay in. The girls can entertain him, and I'll be around in case any problems arise." So that's what she did. The boy is about one, maybe two years old. I'm not sure exactly. I'm not really a baby expert.
Here is the conversation between my oldest daughter, Josie, and me about 5 minutes after the moms left:
Josie: Oh, maybe he shouldn't play downstairs where all those jars are stacked.
Me: Yeah, bring him up here... [Looking around the living room] Just keep him away from the wire cutters and the soldering iron.
Josie: Right! Our house isn't exactly "baby-proofed," is it?
Me: Not exactly. He has some toys in his diaper bag.
They fixed a snack and then turned on the TV to watch "Gnomeo and Juliet" with him. If I'm not mistaken, it's just like Shakespeare's tragedy of forbidden love, but with more gnomes.
Please don't call the authorities on us. All night, only one glass got broken. It was a complete accident, and the kid was nowhere near it. NOBODY WAS EVER IN REAL DANGER, AND I HAVE FOUR UNBIASED WITNESSES WHO WILL TESTIFY TO THAT FACT.
I am posting this for your enjoyment, knowing the mother probably does not read my blog. And knowing we're really not interested in professional child care, so we have no need for references from anyone who does read it.