Recently, I took a trip to visit friends and their little ones. Turtle has this cutie and he is quite the smiley fellow. He was a great sport about me babysitting for short intervals and showing him off at the mall. I’m smitten.


After some time with Turtle, I headed over to Kimmie’s house. She has twin boys and I kept E while she took I to the doctor. Now, E is super cute and sweet, but in the way only toddlers can, he has A LOT of energy. I’ve only met him a few times, so I was really impressed with his ability to roll with the punches and let me entertain him despite my clear amateur status.
The afternoon went something like this:
I arrive and hang out for a few minutes chatting with Kimmie until it is time for her to leave; I start playing with E and we’re having a good time with his toys. She quietly tells me where the snacks, sippy cups and shoes are as she sneaks out. Ok, no problem. I’ve done a lot of babysitting and I have a little brother. This should be a breeze.
E wants to go outside. great. I can handle that. I put his shoes on and we go out to the porch to play for a bit. He seems to realize Kimmie’s car is gone and indicates its normal location. I suggest we go for a walk and see what we can find. So, I take a little hand in mine and we wander around the driveway where I keep him out of ants by finding the pile with my flip-flopped feet first. I try to interest him in the cool moss that is growing in the shade and the soft clover. He looks at me like he’s surprised I’m in charge of him, but is still game. I pick him up so we can walk down the street and I can keep him safe since I don’t know what kind of dangers lurk here (you know, like dingos).
At this point I realize that E’s not a whole lot more tan than I am and Auntie Kate is starting to feel the sun. So, I take us inside where we do a surface glance around for a hat and do not find one. No worries, we can just stay on the porch. He wants a drink of water. sure. I know where the sippy cups are. I pour some water into one and screw the lid on and hand it to him.

He tries to get a drink and pours water down the front of his shirt. I take the cup back and examine it. Maybe I have the straw bit in the wrong position? no. that looks right. I hand it back to him. He pours water down the front of his shirt. ok. hmmm. I take the cup back and unscrew the lid. I help him get a few sips out of the now normal cup so he won’t die of dehydration, but he clearly wants to handle this himself. I peel his wet shirt off and decide the sippy cup is defective, so I get a different lid and screw it onto the cup and hand it back. more water pouring. This is the point where I almost panic. But, kids can smell fear, so, I take a deep breath and take a minute to assess. Meanwhile, he walks over to the kitchen table and bumps his head against it with a sigh of frustration. Laughter drives any other thoughts away. This kid is priceless!
I decide that since he’s not going to die of thirst before Kimmie gets back, I’ll distract him before a second tear joins the sad first one. I explain that he no longer has a shirt on; we should find him a dry shirt. He agrees and we leave the kitchen to hunt one up. I can’t find a shirt, but enough time has passed that I think he’s forgotten the water, so we go play in the living room and then swing on the porch. Thus, when Kimmie came home, it was to a shoeless, shirtless, thirsty child. I told her that I might be a little slow on the sippy cup game and she laughs and figures out that I didn’t put the straw/valve into the lid. When did sippy cups become so complicated? She gives E water and I kid you not, he throws his hands up in the air as if to say, “Finally, some water!” He is my favorite little tornado.

Here we are and as you can see, he’s none the worse for wear and I’m only a little frayed around the edges.