When most people picture babysitting, it's generally a picture of kids peacefully playing while the sitter smiles and enjoys remembering when she was a kid.
This could not be more wrong.
I love these kids, don't get me wrong, but just today's experiences would boggle your mind. I just got them in bed for crying out loud.
At 10.
An hour and a half passed their bedtime.
In case you were curious there are four of these little monsters. The two oldest are not too bad and tend to listen to almost everything I say (though they still try to get away with some pretty sneaky things). The problem is the two youngest.
Both boys.
Both like to throw punches.
One is really young and doesn't understand basic hygiene.
The other threatens other kids with knives.
Good thing I'm quick on my feet, right? The youngest one pulled a whole clump of my hair out today. I looked at it, expecting to see blood and skin on the other end where the roots are. (It definitely hurt badly enough).
The six year old makes a mess everywhere he goes, which I'm still cleaning while I write by the way.
There was one cute thing that happened today though.
I shot his toy gun and he cracked up when it hit me.
In the face.
A three year old shot better than I could!
All of the sudden he grew very solemn.
"I'm sorry." He said. "That really musta hurt. Here, I'll show you how to shoot it."
I had the best gun safety lesson in my life from a three year old. Cutest. Ever.
"See, now you can shoot it and it won't hit your hand and you can shoot allegators and dinosaurs. There's one! Shoot it! Shoot it!"