Posts Tagged 'kids'

I am hell at them!


The six year old I watch thinks he is quite the sailor.

Other gems:

“H-E-L-L, H-E-L-L, H-E-L-L,  SEXY SEXY.”

I am afraid I kind of encouraged him by snickering.


Supreme Court Justice With Two Machine Guns

Ah, I love babysitting two bloodthirsty little beasts.

No, they’re not seriously beasts, but since their mothers have banned all guns or gun facsimilies (with which I completely agree!), they are fascinated by guns. I was explaining government to them today as they were declaring themselves President or King or Supreme Court Justice, and I’m not sure they got it…I giggled quite a bit when the title of this post came out of the older boy’s mouth.

I can’t help but encourage them to be as wild as possible while I watch them. They don’t get much time from their parents to just be crazy outside. I make them do their tasks first, and then they get to make up insane games outside. Kind of like Calvinball, if you are a Calvin and Hobbes fan, actually. I understand that their parents can’t always provide the kind of childish excitement for their silliness that I can. I know it is not as charming to them as it is to me, because they have to deal with the kids all day, every day. I am happy to come in and play with them. Don’t tell their moms, but I would do this job for free. It is a huge stress reliever to play a rousing game of Crazyball before going to class.

Two Comments on Homosexuality

One of which broke my heart.

I was driving the boys I watch to their guitar lesson, and as we passed houses, they counted McCain and Obama signs. We passed quite a few McCain signs in a row, and the little one said,

“Oh no. Now our moms can never get married.”

Ohhh. Makes me tear up.

Now to jerk your chain back from melodrama:

“The Jedi can’t get married? Why not? Is it because they are gay?”

“Uhh, I think a lot of people have that question.”


I’m Sorry, Three Bears

So the younger of the two I watch had to write a letter to the Three Bears from Goldilocks, apologizing for what she had done. Here is his, with the spelling entirely his. I wish there was a way to write all of the letters backwards, too.

Dear Bears,

Sorry for disastar areea. Ate oatmeal, and it was not good. You are luckee I did not poop on your bed. You did not haf a toylet.

(I then encourage him to include a reason why she did so much to the bears)

I did it because I haet bears.




His moms were not amused. I was, though. It made my day. I bet that his teacher assigns these things for her own amusement. I know I would, if I taught first grade.

I Eat Poop Everyday For Breakfast

So far my new job has been awesome. The two boys are really quite good.  You can really tell they are the children of lesbians: they are well-behaved, feminists, sensitive, and their worst insult for one another is “George Bush.” Haha.

They love to try to test me, however. I don’t mind, in fact, I find it funny to thwart their bad behaviour. My favourite response is sarcasm, which usually infuriates them. My other favoured tactic is to mock them, i.e.

Me: No, you cannot  jump all over your brother. Stop pestering him.

Boy 1 (Henceforth known as Little Bear): Your hair looks like poop!

Me: That’s because I eat poop everyday for breakfast.

LB: (storms off)


Boy 2 (Brother Bear): My mom says I don’t have to play my guitar today.

Me: Yeah, and she told me you don’t have to do any of your chores, either.

BB: Really?!

Me: No. Do your chores, or I’m adding another worksheet.

Their moms make them do extra worksheets if they don’t have any homework. I find this hilarious, and also a great punishment for being naughty. The older one doesn’t really care about time-outs (he’s 9), so if he decides to misbehave, I add extra worksheets. His moms totally back me up, too. He decided to try to tattle on me for being “mean” and told his mom I gave him 2 extra sheets one day.

She answered, “Well, since you were so naughty that she had to add extra sheets AND you decided to try to weasel your way out of them, you get ANOTHER sheet.”

My employers are really nice, and the kids are actually very well-behaved. It turns out that I am still able to play those crazy games kids make up. We have a set of elaborate rules for a new game we invented outside. They’ve been obsessed with it, but whine that their moms cannot seem to pick up on the rules.

Probably because their moms don’t actually have the mind of a 9 year old boy, like I do!