Babysitting is the sweetest gig EVER.

So I'm sacrificing my Saturday night to babysit two kids under the age of 4. And when I say babysit, I mean that I'm getting paid to relax on a leather couch, watch a plasma screen TV, eat every Whole Foods product known to man, and blog. 

After the parents picked me up at 7:00, they spent half an hour putting their kids to bed while I waited downstairs and read a Newsweek. (At this point, I started to question my role as so-called "babysitter," but I didn't protest.) Once the kids were soundly asleep, they gave me their cell phone numbers, the remote, and permission to enjoy the contents of their fridge. Apparently they're meeting some friends for a three-hour dinner party or something, and they assured me I would have no trouble while they were gone.

Mom: "Worst case scenario, William wakes up and screams and wakes up Edward and you'll have to read them some stories. Or sing. Or something. Whatever, it won't happen. Call the pediatrician if there's an emergency. But there won't be. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. You'll be fine. Do you want any cookies?"

Me: "Um....okay."

Dad: "Edward has been sleeping through the night for months. He never wakes up. Ever."

Mom: "And William has a cold, so he's been sleeping more than usual."

Dad: "Have I showed you how to turn on the TV?"

Me (in my head): SERIOUSLY?

So here I am, appreciating Northwest DC as I never have before. Gotta love rich Bethesda-ites with overtired children.

(A sidenote: one of William's bedtime stories contained the line, "The skunks enjoyed kissing each other so much that they decided to get married. It was a beautiful wedding." Maybe this is my neuroses talking, but the first thing that sprang to my mind was THANK GOD THANK GOD THANK GOD that real life is nothing like bedtime storybooks. Shudder.)

<3tara