Through a Glass, Darkly

I babysat our neighbors’ son a couple of weeks ago so that they could go to an open house at their daughter’s school (which is also Mike’s school). He did not so much like being left behind. But he likes me, so I think he was a little bit conflicted. “I like Kari, but I don’t want Mommy and Daddy to leave! What will I do?” Well, what he did was hold on to me. And he got a little bit too heavy for me, to be honest, so I sat down with him in the chair and rubbed his head for a while. And then he fell asleep.

Now, I am the least maternal person I know. I don’t have a particular desire to have kids of my own, though we might, someday. But even my grinchy heart was touched when this sweet little boy fell asleep on me. (I did not tell his parents that he had a power nap on my watch. I am not that stupid. I want them to let me keep hanging out with their kids.) It wasn’t a feeling like, “Oh, I want one of these.” Just, “I can see why people do want these.” That’s as far as I can go, okay?

And then he woke up. Now, I am not a parent. But things like this make me think that there is no way I could ever BE a parent. I watched this little guy for an hour. And we did a new activity approximately every 30 seconds. That is 120 activities! I needed a nap when I got home.

He handled the whole thing really well, though. Whenever he asked where his Mommy and Daddy were, I would say, “They are just across the street! And so is Mike! While they are there, you and I get to hang out!” And then we would high five. And start a new and different activity. We had a good time. We read books and played trucks and he showed me his room and he put on a hat and I taught him some new songs. (He’s only 2, so he doesn’t know how bad my singing is.) But, you know, even after all that, I think that he still likes Mike the best.

(Next time, I’m bringing popsicles.)