I am babysitting. You can tell what a wonderful sitter I am, since I’m online blogging instead of stopping the kids from, say, setting the house on fire. Which is a high probability, considering they’re making brownies and saying things like, “So how hot should the oven be? Let’s just crank it.”
I have never liked kids. They were like “MAKE US BROWNIES MAKE US BROWNIES, PLEEEEEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE US BROWNIES,” and I was like, “I have approximately three hours to write this paper,” and they were like, “IF YOU DON’T MAKE US BROWNIES WE’LL SCREAM UNTIL YOU DO,” and I was like, “IF I DON’T KILL YOU IT WILL BE A MIRACLE.”
To conclude, my future will not include kids unless I am selling them on the black market. Now I’ve got to go. They’re trying to force-feed me some really sketchy brownies.