Thirty-One (23 of 31)

Today we finally opened Stephanie’s trunk and took from it the stroller that Stef’s dad had given to us at the first baby shower a couple of weeks ago. We took it out, brought it into the house, and put it together, and, lo and behold, we had ourselves a stroller. And it was a nice one, to boot.

There had been some concern that, due to the condition of the box when it arrived on the doorstep up at Stef’s dad’s house, there might be pieces missing—a package of screws was found a few feet away from the box itself—but everything we needed was inside. And, despite any trepidation I might have felt, the whole process of putting it together went rather smoothly.

Not that my cousin Greg was in a carriage in June of 1999 when I went over to babysit for the evening (he was nearly 11), but, for whatever reason, telling the story of the assembly of the carriage has me sitting here with babysitting on the brain. So, without further ado, here’s today’s throwback entry of the day.

Misadventures in Babysitting

Further proof that I am a geezer. Yesterday while driving about there happened to be two different Cher songs on the radio at the same time, one, a cheezy 80s ballad, the other, that new “hip” dance song she does. And guess which one I chose.

I babysat yesterday. Babysitting is traditionally something I do not do. I am not traditionally a babysitter. Babies… well I look forward to them someday, but now they cause… well Babysitting is not something I like to think of as one of my hobbies. I babysat for Cousin Greg, who is actually not a baby, but a ten year old kid. He’s a little fiesty and most of my family wouldn’t dream of agreeing to watch him. That’s cause most of my family is impatient as all hell. I, however love hanging out with my cousin. I feel like I can handle him and his hyperactivity. But babysitting is not something I do.

And it is especially something I shouldn’t have done yesterday while still being introspective about the whole growing up process. Hell, I even contemplated the maturing process while walking the dog, examining whether I was being too controlling or too lenient as the master. On the way home I thought about how I treated Greg and whether or not I would be a good parent to my own kids someday. I contemplate. That is something I do. Babysitting? Not so much.

Writing is also something that I do, and something that I talk about often enough on this gosh-darn page. Today, perhaps as a kiss-up to all of you loyal readers because I missed yesterday’s entry, I have finally posted excerpts from my body of written work. Also remember the recently posted Commencement Speech, if you really need a fix of the good ole ChrisClark.