Why I’m Nervous To Have Children

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As a side job, I baby-sit two adorable little boys before school and some days after school as well.  They are brothers and one is in kindergarten and the other in third grade.  They are rowdy, loud, smelly, and they’ve captured my heart.  They are also a perplexing combination of country and gangsta.  As in, the younger one loves to yell “Yew cain’t tag this!  Yew cain’t tag it!!” while throwing up gang signs and running around the park.  They’re cute.

Well, the other day I had them before and after school.  Before school, everything went smoothly.  I didn’t hear or notice anything at all.  I took them to school, went to work, and didn’t come back home until after I picked them up.  When we got home I was just straightening our house a bit when I found a picture that was previously hanging up now lying on the guest bed.  The glass frame was missing, but everything else looked okay.  I went to the bathroom and noticed the door was closed and locked.  Hmmm.

When I went in, I noticed right away two small pieces of glass on the floor near the toilet.  Upon further inspection, yes, the toilet was full of glass.  Yay.

I figured that one of the boys broke the picture frame, and somehow the glass fell in the toilet.  I went to the living room and asked about it.  The older boy just kept giggling and saying “it wasn’t me!”  I believed him because he giggles and says that all the time.  75% of the time it was him.  But this time I believed him.

Then I looked at the younger boy.  He kept denying it, but he looked awfully suspicious.  So I used the old “you won’t get in trouble if you did this, but you’ll get in trouble if you lie to me” bit that my parents used to use.  I never believed it then and I’m not so sure this little boy believed it coming from me either.  But, finally, he fessed up.  It was him.  He told me he did it daaaaaaaaaays ago.  (Red flag #1).

So I left the boys watching Spongebob – aka the show that is slowly making me want to poke my eardrums out with a spark – and donned a pair of the disposable gloves I use to make meatballs and went to attack the toilet glass.  Yuck.  I hate toilet glass.

While cleaning, I just kept going over the event in my mind.  The picture itself was fine and showed no signs of getting wet, so how did the glass get in the toilet?  I went back to the culprit and asked him about it.  I reminded him he wasn’t in trouble, but I needed to know if he put the glass in the toilet or it just fell in there.  So he walked to the bathroom and looked at the scene of his crime for a bit. (Red flag #2.)

“Umm, I picked up the glass and put it in the toilet,” he confessed.  So I sighed, checked to make sure he didn’t have any cuts from the glass, and sent him on his way.

Later I was texting Timothy the whole story and was kind of laughing at how weird kids are when he replied, “Ooooooooh sweety, the picture frame, that was me.  It was an accident!”

*cricket cricket*

So an act that I thought was weird for a kindergartener to do, was actually my 26-year-old husband.  And that little kindergartener had no clue what I was talking about but probably confessed just to get me to be quiet with the whole “you won’t be in trouble” speech.

I don’t know if I can be a parent.  Timothy is enough for me to handle.

~Whitney