Ok, so maybe this picture is a bit of embellishment of my ‘actual’ look after my run-in with a paintbrush full of glitter paint. A brush run amuck in the hands of an impassioned not yet three-year-old.
Mom got asked to babysit a two and half-year-old cutie pie. It’s been quite a while since Mom’s watched a wee one; she was a bit nervous. I figured how hard can it be to watch a small kid that can’t run fast. I told Mom, “Never fear. I am here.”
Wow, It’s harder than I thought; much harder. First of all, Baby doll is in constant motion. I asked Mom where the kids turn off button was, and Mom just chuckled.
I went up to the height-challenged tyke to take a sniff, and she bonked me on the snout. I thought she wanted to play rough, so I bumped her into a sitting position. Apparently, she has lots of padding down there cuz not a squeak was heard when she landed on her butt.
Now I totally understand My Mama’s jitters when asked to babysit this chronically active midget. This kiddo confused the heck outa me. She wants to play; she doesn’t want to play; she wants to play, she doesn’t want to play. She bonks me here and there, so I amble away, then she acts all cry-baby-like, so I come back.
Mom came to my rescue when she brought out the colored paints and brushes. The plan was to bedazzle the rocks on the driveway. That kept Mom busy, but Miss Tykester’s profound interest lay in the coloring of the newly pored, like brand new concrete driveway we were squatting on.
As you can see, I’m doing an excellent job of babysitting. I finally got the little she–machine’s lower half stationary and stable, and Mom’s contently basking in the sun. Yet, everyone steer clear cuz the upper half is still brandishing the paintbrush like a weapon.
The Tykester thinks Gramps will glow with proudness at her creative splat on his new concrete. My Mama thinks sitting in the dirt far away from the concrete might have been a better adult choice. Too bad at times, Mom has difficulty adulting.
All I can say is everything was fine and dandy for about 5 minutes.
The sun and quiet lulled me into peace, so I was not on my game when this quick-limbed child burst into motion. In a second, she was up on her teeny tiny feet, wobbling with intent straight toward my head, tight fisting a paintbrush full of glitter paint!
I jerk with fright. Mom sternly tells me to “Stay.” I stayed put, and it got me bedazzled! Neither eye got poked outa my head; Hallelujah! For that reason, this bunch of sweetness will always hold a special place in my heart.
After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, Mom finally told me my babysitting job was over, that she would take it from here. Mom’s timing was impeccable as I smelled deer in the air. I needed a hard and fast chase to release my babysitting stress.
Mom took the little honey bunch into the house for a snack, reading, and a few bedtime tears before the drooled snoring began. Supposedly the Tot ate, read, cried, and drooled; not My Mama. I wasn’t in the house, so I can’t vouch for the accuracy!
I hope you, my reader, and furball friends are having a splendid summer.