It’s not like I’m going…

It's not like I'm going to claim that babysitting is the funnest thing ever. When Roshani called me up last night in a mild panic and asked if I could *please* come up to Milwaukee today and watch Zoe so that she and Tom wouldn't have to cancel their hospital dinner-dance plans (since their other sitter plans fell through), I didn't think, "yippee!"

When I got up here, I admit to spending a fair bit of time finishing reading A College of Magics (great fun for the sort of person who liked The Enchanted Chocolate Pot) while Zoe amused herself -- at three, she's old enough to do that pretty good now. There was a fair bit of dancing involved, I think. (Okay, I danced with her some. And played elephant. And swung her around the room until my arms got tired.) Coaxing Zoe to actually eat her pasta with her fork, rather than dipping said fork into her orange juice and giggling uncontrollably while she dripped orange juice all over her dragon placemat (luckily easy-to-clean) while pretending to actually drink juice was probably a little more frustrating than actually amusing.

But all that said, the half-hour or so Zoe spent in the bathtub, absolutely covered in bubbles and accompanied by mad shrieking and splashing, had me laughing harder than I have in quite a while. And once she was out and dry and in her sheep pyjamas and all snuggled warm under the covers with me, watching some weird British show on PBS Kids about talking pigs -- well, that was just too damn cute to stand. So while babysitting isn't the funnest thing's reasonably high on the list. :-)

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