Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Children

So my mom knows that unless I have school or work, I will babysit her children if she asks. I could be sick, sleep-deprived, or dying, and if she asks me to come over and babysit I'll do it. I won't be a good babysitter, in fact I'll probably pass out for the entire time, but I'll be in the same vicinity as the children, and may even get up when they cry and attempt to pacify them. So she asks plaintively Wednesday night when I'm dragging my ass back from work and I agree as long as i get to leave a half hour before work starts the next day.

I'm late by a half hour, and I'm unshowered, sleep-deprived, cranky, and carrying a bag of laundry. Except there are three random guys in the house because apparently I was called over to babysit because the father is too busy renovating the house to watch his children. Go figure.

He's also torn out the bathroom, unplugged the laundry machine from whatever pipes bring it water, and transferred the toilet from downstairs, to the attic upstairs. He didn't make a new bathroom upstairs, instead he just stuck a toilet in the corner and put a soap bottle in front of it. Except there's no sink nearby.

Sometimes loving my mom is hell.

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