My God-Son: The Midnight Firefighter

I'm moving to South Carolina in 7 weeks. I figure now is the time to make good on all of the promises I've made over the last 24 years that I haven't been following through on. Do all the things I haven't yet gotten the chance to do. Pictures by the gaudy "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign, roller-coaster-tours of the city--you name it, I'm doing it.

I even offered to babysit my god-son overnight. His mother (my best friend) and her husband have not had a night to themselves since they wed, a little over two years ago. They started the arrangement up one kid and since they lived in the direct middle of nowhere-close-to-me, my babysitting services have been long discussed but never actually seen. So, in my vigor to check things off my list I made the mistake of telling my friend that I'd watch her baby boy overnight (if her mom would take the 4-year-old girl, of course) so that my friend and her hubby could take a night off.

HA!

Six hours into my insanity driven idea I was laying on my bed trying to comfort a 2-year-old who was having a nightmare only to realize that the child had brandished his manhood sometime during the night and promptly made like a firefighter, spraying his little hose all over the bed. There I was, covered in baby pee, with four blankets and a feather mattress topper also covered in pee, and the baby finally sleeping soundly. I changed him to a clean diaper, put another blanket underneath him for the time being, realized that the only blanket he didn't pee on was his own, and promptly fell back into a coma induced by chasing him around for four hours before bed time.

The night proceeded just like that, me up every five minutes, and the baby not even stirring except to babble in his sleep. So, when five in the morning rolled around and the baby was standing on the bed, happy as can be, and ready for breakfast, I was still mostly dead.

Next step was to take all of the bedclothes to the laundry mat this morning. First thing. There, the little firefighter ran around as though his diaper was on fire for an hour while the manager looked at me funny and I silently made the decision to make an appointment to have my tubes tied as soon as I make it to South Carolina.

I am currently down $10 in quarters, at least 3 reasonably large clumps of hair, half my sanity, and 5 years off of my life.

Oh well...at least the sheets are clean.