I just got back from babysitting. In other words, I spent two hours watching cheesy Disney channel sitcoms, pretending to understand a very congested 8-year old when she commented on the commercials.
After Hannah and I have out fill of laugh tracks and unrealistic plots, she craws upstairs into her bed. I obediently follow her as she leads me into her decked-out-in-pink-and-other-pastel-colors room. "This id mah Justin Bieber poster" she grins, pointing to the 16-year-old's overly photoshopped face. I nod, a little concerned that she's interested in someone twice her age.
I get up to leave the fluffy room, guessing that I would probably have to watch more Disney channel because of how impossible it was to figure out how to change the channel on their enormous and overly-complicated TV."Someone always sleeps wid me..." she quickly says, looking a me with pleading eyes. "Sometimes Versace sleeps with me, but she's sleeping with Christopher tonight."
"Wait, did she say her cat's name is Versace?"
"Want me to sleep with you?" I ask automatically. She nods, clutching her stuffed bear to her chest.
I flick off the lights and collapse onto the left side of the mattress. (Don't you think it's a little unnecessary for someone her size and age to have a full-sized bed? Then again, she's already in love with Justin Bieber.) "How long should it take her to fall asleep? Twenty minutes, maybe? Well, she did say that she was tired, so it might be sooner than that. Maybe I can go downstairs once she falls asleep and finish up that iCarly puzzle so her mom will think we did something productive." I bury my face into her plush Hello Kitty doll, only to get a cold, hard, plastic eye in my face. Ow.
I soon get into the rhythm of her color-changing night-light. My favorite is when the light turns red, making the entire room almost dark with its dim light, or lack thereof. Hannah's breathing soon gets steadier and deeper, but I don't find myself getting up out of her bed. Instead, I stare at her ceiling and ponder.
I wonder how many men Hannah's mom had slept with since she divorced her husband. From the number of different boyfriends of hers that I've seen each time I come to babysit, I'm guessing a lot.
I wonder if the rest of the year will be at least mildly interesting.
I wonder if she's right.
I wonder why I did it.
I begin to think deeper, but then Hannah begins to daintily snort. I then decide that it's about time to go downstairs to watch some cartoons. I can't stand snoring.
... by the way, I'm going to North Carolina for the next week, so if I'm not around that's why. :]