“Sit, Bro, sit! Sit! Tara, make him LISTEN!”
I’ve gone from small town stripper to big city assistant nanny for a day in sixteen hours flat.
“Why should he do what you say?” I ask.
Jimmy kicks at the ground, and I can tell he’s thinking about just ignoring me. But he doesn’t. “Cause. He’s a dog.”
“Oh. Well I don’t think that’s a good enough reason,” I tell him. “Besides, Bro doesn’t know any commands in english. When he gets to know you better I’ll teach you his commands.”
This is so interesting Jimmy throws the ball a third time instead of giving his brother his turn.
Later we climb trees and eat rosehips. The rosehips teach us the same thing Bro did: if you try to grab something (a ball or a hip) from someone they might hang on to it tighter, or poke you with a thorn. But if you wait or ask gently they’ll probably give it to you anyways. Yeah, a seven year old generalized that from dog to rose all on his own. I was so geeky excited about his cognitive development for a minute.
We watched Charmed on the teevee. Did you know they have witches in the teevee that are like Christians or something? They’re all fighting demons and fallen angels and stuff.
Kids at bedtime are so cute.
Maybe I’ll quit stripping and be a nanny.