After calling every kid in the neighborhood over the age of 12 to babysit, and getting shot down repeatedly, I did the thing I never thought I’d do….I went hunting for teenaged girls on the internet. My husband was flat out afraid of the whole situation. He wanted to interview someone and have her over for dinner first and get a list of references and perhaps know her blood type first.

I reminded him that if I can manage to not drown these kids, anyone can do it.

I got a lot of replies to my ad. Some were definite no’s. Anyone who uses texting type in an email automatically gets bumped. Anyone who types in ALL CAPS gets bumped, too. If you are 52 years old, I’m just not going to hire you to babysit. Nanny, maybe. Babysit on the fly, no way. I’ve seen the Cat in the Hat. I know about these things.

For someone who was desperate, I sure do have a lot of conditions.

Anyway, it just so happened to work out that a 13 year old responded to the ad, who just so happens to live on the same street as me, who just so happens to have a little sister who goes to school with my kids.

HIRED.

She rocked, and wasn’t nervous, and was CPR and sitter certified, which makes her more qualified to be alone with these kids than I am, and the kids were great to her, and I left her out some cream puffs, and she is now my Regular Sitter.

Squee!

We went out with a lady that works for Josh and her husband and their 4 friends. Of course, we went to the restaurant they work at for dinner, which was crazy fancy fun for me and another night at work for him. Still, they make excellent martinis, so it all worked out fine and I may have ever-so-subtly propositioned the man sitting next to me at the table. Vodka is my baby-making drink. Bygones.

And hey! Thanks to you all for offering to sit for me. I have saved, tagged and starred every one of those comments and you can rest assured that I WILL call on you someday. Get those passports ready. I am SICK of these kids.