You know, I was trying to write a post about my weekend coming up and it was all so treacly about babies and whatnot. I might as well give up and go post on those infertility boards. Man, I never wanted to be one of those women.
Here’s the gist of It. Tatiana and I set up a babysitting Saturday for her two-year-old who I am using, unapologeticlly, to allow Sparky the joy of hands-on kid herding. And I want him to change a poopy diaper because I am mean like that.
I am also planning on using said two-year-old as a baby-proofing expert. I have lost most of my Sharpie pens. If anyone can find a permanent marker, she can.
This particular kid is perfect for the job. She can talk when she wants, understands perfectly, but is still firmly controlled by her Id and she really does not give a rats ass if the sofa came from Ligne Roset because she is having fun kicking it. Baby doesn’t know who Peter Maly is, but she thinks he designed a great bed for jumping on. Did I mention she has very powerful lungs to boot?
(She calls me “Jee” so I’m pretty much a goner. Funny how she can break my ear drums on a continuous basis, but the the moment she recognizes me with a vague resemblance to my actual name and I forget about my permament hearing loss and smile at her.)
Did I mention diapers? Because that was going to be the most fun part for me. It took him four years to clean a cat toilet and I promise, if/when we have a kid, he’s not gonna have that amount of time to get used to it.
Tatiana has selflessly offered me her kid for this overnight learning experience. She and her husband will have to find something to do all by themselves since their 10-year-old will be gone too. See how selfless they are? I’m sure they will be bored.
I have reminded Sparky for the last three weeks. Every couple of days I tell him, get him used to the idea of sticky hands and temper tantrums and poopy diapers. He just nods and says “Great!”
That was until Monday.
“Sparky, do you remember what we’re doing this weekend?”
“Uh, Yeah. Axel’s bachelor party in Koeln. I’m leaving Saturday with the guys and it’ll be strippers and table dances all night. Wooot! Wooot!”
I won’t continue with where that conversation went, but I’m pret-ty sure you can guess.
So, this weekend? Yeah, I’ll be babysitting a two-year-old and Sparky will be knee deep in, well, knee deep in something.