So by my own doing, this Saturday afternoon I'm gong to babysit my genius (see earlier post for proof) godson John Jr. Now for those of you who know me, this is HUGE. I do not, I reapeat, I do not mess with children. If you can't clearly explain to me what's bothering you, what you need and how I can make it better then I am a hopeless mess. Hence, I can only blame my offer to watch JJ on my own without supervision (that'd be supervision of me) on some unexplainable surge of hormones. Fingers crossed, it won't happen again dammit.OK, JJ's arrival is four days away and I'm already a complete wreck. I'm looking around my one-bedroom apartment and trying to figure out how in the world there's going to be enough space for me, Drama and a three year old boy. You know my anti-social dog requires her own room at all to herself. Not to mention, his mom has him on this healthy food regiment... Something tells me Minute Maid friut punch, Doritos and a Happy Meal don't exactly fit the menu.
Worse comes to worse, I guess I'll take him next door to play with my neighbor's crazy grandson Nathanial. Who at the ripe young age of five is showing all the marking of a future corner boy- god bless his heart. But hey, you're never too young to learn how to shoot dice and swear in Spanish, right?
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