Dear New Babysitter:
I hope we didn’t scare you when we peeled out of the driveway without a backward glance. We just couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Yes, I know you had only known three of us (Eggy, Sophia and me) for five minutes. I’m not sure you knew their daughter’s name. Had you even laid eyes on our youngest? I don’t even know where he was when you arrived.
We love our kids, of course. Really. But we need those moments where we are Beth, Eddie, Eggy and Sophia and not Mama, Daddy, Daddy and Mama.
Here’s what we heard all day:
“Mama, I’m hungry. I’m so hungry, Mama!”
“He won’t let me have the bow and arrows. He’s had them all day!”
“He’s being a jerk to me! He called me ‘stupid.'”
This is what we wanted to hear:
“Would you like an appetizer with that?”
“What kind of drink would you like?”
“Would you like a refill?”
Thanks to you, we were able to have adult conversations while we sipped martinis, ate delicious food (made more delicious by the fact that someone else cooked the meal), and watched Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy cement their homance.
No one badgered us to get him a drink/feed her/play with him/get her Merida dress/mediate a fight/find a Bey Blade/get a Bandaid/put on Netflix/let him watch “Spongebob,” etc.
We tried not to leave you with too much to do. We made sure they were bathed and fed. Bedtime was on you. All you had to do was keep them alive until we got home.
You did and they were. Thank you.
From the bottom of our jaded, frazzled, exhausted little hearts, we thank you.
Sincerely,
Beth
Observe and report 
But was there warm milk and post-“nightmare” cuddling??
LikeLike
No. Sucker!
LikeLike