But in my defense I've been babysitting for the second week in a row now, so I really have very little time to write anything. The minute I sit down at the computer it's all "Ooh are you going to play a game? Can I play a game?" or "Masha let's go buy me a dragon" or "Masha, how many Kilotrillabytes are in a Megotallibyte?".
... Shoot me in the head.
... Shoot me in the head.
I hate disciplining too as a rule but lately I've had to pretty hard core because my mother doesn't at ALL, and well my Dad isn't around. So George has been running around wild and he doesn't listen to anyone, so I figured, well I guess I'll use my cool big sister influence to install some order into his little six year old life.
Which is how I found myself with one leg over the bear barrier yelling, "I SWEAR TO GOD GEORGE ASK ME FOR MONEY ONE MORE TIME!!! NO GO ON ASK ME!! DO IT!! ASK ME ONE MORE TIME AND I WILL JUMP IN HERE I SWEAR!!!!!!". Yeah. I'm good with kids. Other high lights of that Zoo trip: George running from kiosk to kiosk asking for me to buy him everything and ignoring the animals, my grandfather giving lengthy and factually incorrect lectures to random children about the animals in the cages (in one particularly memorable moment, his lecture about the eating habits of a puma was interrupted when a little kid pointed out that that was a wolf), and me constantly having to search for one of them since they had a habit of wandering off without telling me. I also delivered some of my most outrageous lies and threats at that zoo. When George threw a fit because I refused to buy him a Fanta because we were going home for dinner, I was at the end of my tether and told him that fine, fine, I'll buy him a Fanta, but we're not going to leave the Zoo EVER. "FINE! YOU can live in those tiny smelly Duck houses and eat their poop and I am going to play with the bears and the seals and the wolves and they are going to be my friends and they aren't going to be your friends and I'm going to train them to HATE you". This is about the time that he burst into tears and hit me and I picked him up and held him over the pond and threatened to throw him in with his Duck friends if he didn't start acting normal. Thankfully he thought it was scary but funny and stopped and was ok. Some of the mothers looked really horrified though. Pshht. Amateurs.
Still though, running after a Six year Old all day is exhausting. Yesterday he threw his coat at me as we were leaving a guests apartment and I snapped and picked up the coat and raced after him to throw it at him, and I slipped on a fucking totally useless rag left on the floor and flew up in the air, totally showed a random man my panties by accident, and landed on my hip with a shriek that had everyone we were visiting run out into the hall way in horror. My brother burst into laughter. Little fucking demon. I mean I couldn't stop laughing too but I have one more bruise on my hip and my elbow is bruised and I WILL GET HIM FOR THIS.
