One Queen & A Baby

I agreed to this godmother duty a little over a year now and my tasks had been pretty easy. The hardest parts have been the inquisition that the Catholic Church subjected me to, and then attending the baptism ceremony, which was literally 574574574574 hours long. Other than that, I'm more than happy to pop in for any birthday parties the godchildren may have, where I shower them for gifts, get them in trouble, and promptly go home. (Fyi, when I say godchildren I'm talking about my friend's two kids: 'P', her toddler, and 'B', her teenage stepson)





So I was in the throes of unattached happiness when the phone rang and my friend gave me the 10 words that literally made my knees buckle: "Would you mind watching the baby for a few hours?" Now, I knew this was bound to happen, since my friend had been involved in a nightmare of a childcare situation. She knew I had the day off, she and husband had to get to work and they needed someone to watch the baby 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. and would I do it? 'Sure thing!' I said without hesitation.





Now, it's been a looong time since I've been unattended with a little person. The last kid I had babysitting domain over is now 13, so I'm a bit out of my element. Dear P is a 1 year old chubby cheeked ponytailed bundle of energy. She came with a bag of toys -- two teddy bears; Lulu, a doll who counted to 10 VERY LOUDLY; a 'Happy birthday' dvd and a couple of books.





However, P’s favorite activity was running around in circles and laughing. Yet that didn’t compare to the sheer joy she felt when she came up to my entertainment center and promptly threw all of my dvds on the floor. She quickly put them back up, only to knock them back down again. This went on for awhile and it was quite amusing. Whenever she’d get agitated, I’d try to get her to say my name. My name is a mouthful for any tyke, so I decided to teach her to call me Queen. That was much easier!


Once she bored with my dvds, P got to my magazine collection. I tried to steer her toward the magazines I didn’t care about – the Shape with Jennifer Love Hewitt on the cover, the Cosmopolitan featuring Kim Kardashian, etc. I had to do some serious interference when she lunged for my special Vogues – those featuring Michelle Obama and Jennifer Hudson. Finally, she settled on my Victoria’s Secret catalog. Hey, the girl’s got good taste.



No evening with a tyke would be complete without a sudden strange smell and the dirty diaper that follows it. And let me tell you …. THAT WAS SOMETHING. But we survived. P’s dad picked her up promptly at 6 pm, just like he said he would and the family thanked me hundreds of times.



After P left, this strange feeling fell over me and I realized how quiet my home really is. So I jumped on my couch and took a nice, long nap. I truly earned that bad boy.

Photo from http://i245.photobucket.com/albums/gg62/witchyhoy3/thetruth.jpg