We had a sweet new babysitter come to watch Carson last night. We were starting a new small group at our friend’s house. These friends don’t have kids yet and have way too many fancy, breakable things in their home. Every time we’re over there with Carson, I kind of hold my breath the whole time and pray that he doesn’t break anything. Hence, the babysitter.
When she came to the door, I was upstairs feeding Mary Grace. Here’s what I heard my honest husband say to her:
“Hey! This is Carson. We prayed tonight that he would behave for you. He hasn’t been behaving too well today. And we prayed for you.”
I wanted to smack him and guard the door to prevent her from leaving. We really, really needed this babysitter.
Sure, Carson had been a piece of work yesterday. And sure, he was telling the truth- we did pray for both of them. But didn’t he realize that good babysitters are not easy to come by? I needed Carson to work his charm and be liberal with the hugs and kisses!
For the record, the babysitter said Carson was just fine. And he sure as heck worked his charm because I noticed the wrapper of an I-Only-Get-This-When-I-Poop-In-The-Potty-Little-Debbie on his play table. They are hidden way back in the pantry, and Carson knows full-well what he has to do to get these. But I laughed when I saw the wrapper because I could just see his little two year old self dragging the new babysitter over to the pantry saying “Cupcake up high! Me cup cake! Me eat!” Meanwhile the babysitter was probably thinking to herself, “These people actually buy these things for this kid? I’ve gotta get myself outta here.”
He might be cute. And he might be smart. But watch your back- my kid is a little con artist.