In her head ShallowGal wrote this awesome intro about how she met David at VUBOQ's pumpkin carving party and right off the bat, tried to pick a fight. Over the proper use of a stencil.(2) Cause SG really really really liked David.(3) And he deserves way more than this:
Hey guys! Say hi to David!
Allow me to introduce myself. I’m David, from Someone in a Tree, the blog that absolutely no one has been buzzing about recently.
I’m here today in the capacity of guest blogger while Shallow Gal and her brood, er, lovely family are off on a fabulous vacation that I was not invited on. I was fortunate to meet SG at a party last weekend and over the course of the evening we bonded. If by “bonded” you mean “argued over pumpkin carving stencils and nearly came to blows.”
But all that is behind us now and here I am, ready to entertain you for the three or so minutes it will take you to read and summarily dismiss this post.
So. Kids. I don’t have any.
But SG does. She’s got three! That must be quiet the handful. Not that I don’t have extensive experience with children. I mean, I was a rather in-demand babysitter back in the day. That day being Friday, March 14, 1980. No, actually there were many more days. I just blocked them out. But I’m not lying about being in-demand. I sat for this one family that had two boys. They loved me. It would have been nice if the situation were mutual. I mean, those boys were obnoxious. Spoiled, needy, a little arrogant, and one was only three years old. And still working on the potty training. After about a year of solid work from them (mainly because I think no other sitter had the patience to deal with those little nimrods) I had had enough and lied to the mother, telling her that I’d gotten a part-time job at a local Dunkin’ Donuts and so was leaving the sitting business. She was devastated and kept asking which location until I had to lie again giving a location at which, of course, I was not working. She later left a phone message that she’d taken the kids to visit me there but I wasn’t working, could I tell her when my shift was? I considered the witness protection program.
I also did three years as a camp counselor for a day camp. I had the kindergarten age group. Roughly two dozen little beings whose lives were in my hands six hours a day, five days a week. Overall I loved the kids. They were at that age where they could communicate clearly with you but still respected your authority. And had nap time. And they were easy to pick up so if one of them had a meltdown or refused to leave arts and crafts to get ready for swimming, you could just toss ‘em over your shoulder and carry their shrieking little bodies back to the campsite. In all fairness I used that skill more to give piggy back rides. It’s a good thing I was a teen then with a resilient spine. But it really was a pleasure to spend my days with them. And even more of a pleasure in the late afternoon to send them home in the clothes I’d helped them muddy and smell up all day long.
Of course there was always one bad apple in the bunch. One kid who from day one was committed to defying you at every possible turn, encouraging other kids to pick on each other and disrupting every activity with inappropriate behaviors. They were the ones who pushed other kids into the pool, poached crayons from their peers, made fart noises during sing-a-long time, and had turf wars over the Lego blocks. And their parents were always the worst tippers at the end of summer. The apple sure doesn’t fall far.
I have two nephews now that I see fairly frequently. I’m proud to say that I’m rarely tempted to push either of them down a flight of stairs. Yup, they’re good kids. The eldest is 15 and the youngest is 12. No felonies yet, so we are keeping our fingers crossed.
So. Kids. It’s why we’re here, isn’t it?
Well, it’s why I’m here, since SG has to schlep hers somewhere fun several times a year to avoid a mutiny.
Thanks for reading. Come back soon!
1) Although DisneyWorld? Provides much to blog about.