Feeling quite well toward the end of a long week on Friday, I committed myself to babysitting on Saturday night for a co-worker in dire need of a sitter.  She admittedly was desperate so I volunteered to hang out with some cool kids.  Immediately following the acceptance of the babysitting position, I had a small panic attack.  I haven’t watched children unrelated to me since I lived with a witch and her three witch children in Chicago (another story for another time).

After I freaked out, I got excited.  I was going to show these little party monsters a good time, and a good time is what we had that night.  A Bonfire, tons of newspaper, and marshmallows (for ammo, not for eating) all make for an exhausting night of crazy kid time.  Turns out, I’m the World’s Best Babysitter.  The marshmallow fight got a little vicious.  How do little boys throw marshmallows so hard that they leave welts?  Some mysteries in life will forever baffle me.