Tomorrow, I’m being tasked with looking after my little 4-year old sister for an entire day. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to mind her on her own, having usually enlisted the help of my little brother who is better with this sort of thing. Sadly, that little bastard has gotten out of it by only being six years old and in school. I am tremendously under-prepared. This is the first time I’ve ever really been called into action as a responsible adult in charge of a smaller person’s life. For an entire day.
Now, if this was the early 90’s, I wouldn’t be writing this. No, instead, I’d be putting together plans for either: a) a film starring Ted Danson or b) a TV show, probably starring Ted Danson. A fish-out-of-water story about a man with a pouffy hair-do dubiously looking after a baby that is not his own, handily side-stepping the paedophile thing by making the baby kick-ass and street-wise. A light-hearted comedy where everything happens ‘With Hilarious Consequences’.
She’s going to smash something expensive. With Hilarious Consequences.
She’s going to eat too many sweet and throw up all over me/the dog. With Hilarious Consequences.
She’s going to go missing. With Hilarious Consequences.
I’m going to be in horrible over my depth. With Hilarious Consequences.
I’d have called it “With Hilarious Consequences”.
I’ve looked into it, and any kind of restraints for a full day is illegal and against her tiny little human rights. My problem is that she’s too quick, and she knows her house better than I do. I don’t know if there’s a way into some sort of crawl space between the walls, but she will. My day tomorrow will likely end in a country-wide manhunt, and she’ll just be sat in the shed all along, playing with the power tools. My day will end with my parents returning home to a fresh-faced, wide-awake little sister and me, covered in my own blood and dirt, falling asleep at the dining table.
With Hilarious Consequences.
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