Man, I heard a song on KHOL yesterday and was like, “Wow, I love this song… I’m gonna share it” and then I totally forgot what it was. Shwoops. It was good though… rest assured.
So, I have too many jobs now. Random jobs have me running around working from 8am-11pm [like yesterday] and it’s all a little overwhelming. I looked at my Google calendar and figured out I don’t have a day off until July 5th… dahhhh. But this is the price you pay to make something work, I guess. Things that you really want to work, take work. Sure, sometimes you get the serendipitous dropped-in-your-lap job, house, love, car, friends, gig, but sometimes [these times] you don’t. And then it’s time to get crackin’.
I babysat for my new favorite three-year-old last night, Beckett. I’ll be babysitting for him regularly now. He is a-dor-able… and hilarious. [this next story might be too much for some to handle.] So last night, Beckett and I were in the backyard playing with the dogs when Beckett got a very worried look on his face and DARTED back in the house yelling, “I gotta poop!” That, in itself, was hilarious/precious enough.
But then I walk in the house and hear Beckett yell…
– Raaaachel! I need you!
So I walk over to the bathroom [a small half bathroom] and am a little concerned because the light was off…
– Beckett… you okay?
– Can you turn the light on?
[p.s. please note that he is grunting when speaking.]
– Yeah, sure buddy.
I turn the light on.
– I need you in here.
– You need me to wipe?
– No, I just need you in here.
– I need you to sit down.
This is a really small bathroom we’re talking about here. And the only thing to sit on is a step-stool that Beckett uses to wash his hands.
– Beckett, there’s really no place to sit.
– Please. Please… I need you here.
He was precious… I couldn’t argue with him. So, then we’re sitting, knees to knees… looking at each other… he’s still pooping… I’m laughing at my life… we’re having a moment… a very. weird. moment. Then he says…
– Can you shut the door?
– Absolutely not.
– Pleeeease… I need you to shut the door.
– No, Beckett… That is where I draw the line.
– We’re not drawing! We’re pooping!
I about died laughing.