If You Kids Don't Shut The Hell Up, The Boogie Man Will Eat You!

Last night was one of those rare occasions where I could imagine myself slapping a child. I got involuntarily stuck watching six kids, all under the age of seven, three of whom had never met me before and were terrified of me, rightly so. The youngest brat of the bunch was a four year old who refused to say anything but “umph” in between bursts of hysterical, ear bursting screams. Their mom drove ten miles to the house I was at to ask for a ride to the ER (which was less than half a mile away at this point. Could she not have had the mute child drive the rest of the way? It was an automatic, so it’s not like he’d had to shift or anything complicated like that).


So I get to stay with all the kids…yay me. By this time it’s 1 in the morning and all the kids are wide awake and I am highly pissed off. Not only am I never awake at this hour sober, but I have to form a human barricade along the edge of the couch (which is extremely awkward and uncomfortable) to keep the screaming one from lunging himself onto the floor…again.

Here, folks, is why I should not babysit your children…especially if I am not being paid for it, cause then I’ll just be resentful and say awesome things to your kids like, “If you don’t shut the hell up, the Boogie Man will eat you.”

Only after I pretended to call the Boogie Man and give him the address did the kids fall asleep; or at least pretend to. But whatever, a silent house is a happy house!

Ugh…where is the damn key to the liquor cabinet when you need it…and who the hell locks their liquor up anymore anyway?!