So, I want to talk about the convention. I want to talk about our country. I want to talk about important things. I also want to talk about babysitting. I'm torn.
Since I leave in about 30 hours for Denver, I figured I'd give the babysitter talk a shot, and save myself for the trip home, when I could tell you all the fabulous things I saw and heard whilst mingling with the dead sexiest group of bloggers the world has ever known. But then, oh, but then, something came up, and I decided to do both.
My dear friend Stephen is out and about Denver mocking covering the protests in Denver for Pajamas Media. Stephen is a republican, he drinks scotch, and he's kind of a jerk when he wants to be. We have NOTHING in common (maybe except that jerk bit. Bygones), but I love him and I read him religiously because, well, no one can make me laugh at myself better than he can. He's brilliant, and he always remembers to tell me I look pretty. I'm a chick, and quite susceptible to flattery. I digress.
Anyway, Stephen was downtown at the mint, filming some protesters doing something completely ridiculous for his video debut on Pajamas Media, when he tripped and fell on an event that I can only describe as the reason I am not registered as a Democrat, and the reason I'm really reluctant to call myself one in public. This asshole? Is giving us all a bad name. And has no respect for others. Especially women. Even women who's politics I abhor; she's still a woman, and still a human. Go watch. Watch it all. It's terrible in that Oh My God This Tastes Like Shit You HAVE To Try It way.
Next, babysitters. I am doing something I've never ever done before; I am leaving my children in the care of a 14 year old for TEN STRAIGHT hours on Thursday so I can fly 1600 miles and throw a party. I am kind of scared shitless about the whole thing. She's quite capable, and very loving to the baby, but still. 10 hours straight with my kids and I'm hitting the liquor cabinet. What's this poor girl going to do?
Anyway, I had to make sure the Babysitter Instructions were still on the fridge, and indeed they were, and as I reviewed them I realized that maybe I ought to share them with you. Because maybe you need to make a babysitter instruction list, and maybe I can help you out with that. I'm a giver. Here we go, copied straight from the sheet on the fridge, I promise:
The BLT Instruction Manual (My kids initials spell a sandwich. I like food)
- Don't kill them, please. I've been waiting for 10 years; I have dibs.
- Don't let them have candy. Unless you are on great medication or don't value your sanity.
- Bedtime is at 9, 8:30 if you start prematurely aging.
- They can read in bed with their lights on. No, they may not read Playboy.
That's about it. Thanks, dude!
Yes, that is the whole list, excluding our phone numbers, which nice try, but you have to work way harder than that to get my digits.
One question: As much as I love Little Ms Sitter, she is one of those girls that refuses to name her price. Which annoys me to no end. Have a little sense of self value, already. Besides, I don't know what the exchange rate is from shoulder shrug to CAD. My question is this: Normally, we pay $10/hour for sitting. But there's no way I'm giving a 14 year old $100 for one day's work. No way in hell. I don't make $100 in a day, and I'm betting most of you don't, either. So, what do I pay her for a 10 hour day of chasing my toddler, playing my Wii, eating my chips and making sure the boys have bandaids and cookies?