The Best Birth Control

My bosses ex-wife is in jail again. (All good stories start with a line like that.) About five years ago my boss was confronted with her affinity for prescription medication. After a few stints in rehab and seven felony counts for calling in fake prescriptions and actually trying to steal pain meds from a neighbor, he divorced her and took full custody of their three children. The ex hit an all-time low a few months ago when she overdosed and landed in the county jail. Since then she has accepted into the drug court program which regularly puts her in front of the judge. I have taken to calling her Amy Winehouse.

So my boss and the two other firm employees (both males, I'm the only female which means I live in a world of fart jokes and talking about muscles) planned this fantastic trip to Las Vegas to watch three straight days of college basketball. My boss even had his toes manicured in preparation for the sandal wearing, his toes are now bright pink with little jewels, like he was attacked by a "bedazzler," no joke. Yes, he's going to get his ass kicked.

To make a long story short, my boss had planned on Amy Winehouse watching his mongrels while he was away. Unfortunately, Amy had "some anxiety" earlier in the week and skipped her appointment with her shrink (um, don't you think anxiety is why she sees a shrink?) so the judge threw her in the county jail, yet again. After a few calls from Amy's toothless, on-disabillity, beer-drinking boyfriend to inform my boss where the hell Amy actually was, my boss called me and asked me to watch his kids.

Today is the third and final day of this misadventure, as long as Amy doesn't start any jail fights and doesn't try to steal medication from the jail infirmary again. While I'm exhausted from the sleep deprivation, the kids were actually really well-behaved and we had a pretty good time. I even got a good work out from spending two days as a horse/tickle-monster/thrower-of-children-onto-the-squishy-furniture. I would like to share with you the best and worst of this experience:

-Potty-training is a mixture of horror and hilarity. The youngest, Ben, is now three and starting to potty train. He's a little guy but he likes to use the real potty and how he does it is hysterical! He actually takes his pants and underwear all the way off and sits on the back of the seat and pees forward. He still needs help though so I got to be a part of this on a regular schedule. As far as number two... don't even ask.

-It is really important for an eight year old to look cool in front of his friends. Max, the oldest, had a couple of friends over one night while Sam, the six year-old daughter, and I were attempting to play Dance, Dance Revolution (I suck, by the way.) Max and his friends were going to play with us but after five minutes of failed attempts to set the game back up on two player after messing it up from the way we had it, Max got frustrated, stuck up his chin, and beckoned his stooges to follow him out of the room. Upon leaving, he said, "Let's let the GIRLS figure out their little game." I almost died laughing.

-For children, yelling is apparently the same thing as singing. I'm not sure how I forgot this from nursery and primary, but I was reminded by a very loud rendition of "Joy to the World" which involves the death of Barney that was sung at least seventy times.

-Apparently hypochondria is a familial trait. After making a run for some wicked good children's cough syrup, Max still coughed up a lung both nights, but strangely has no other symptoms. My boss has been known to imagine hemotomas and other such ailments in the past so I guess it's no wonder his son would pick up on it. Max even went as far to tell me that he thought he had "coughed up some blood"... turns out he just eaten red candy.

-For those of you who think that "abandonment issues" are just a load of crap, spend a night with those kids. Apparently, Amy Winehouse used to sneak out of the house to get cigarrettes or whatever after the kids fell asleep. Waking to a house with no adults can be tough on kids, which is pretty obvious with Max asking ten times where I will be in the house after he goes to sleep. On top of that, Ben wakes up crying a few times everynight and won't settle down until he sees an adult who will stay with him until he falls back asleep. Seriously Amy, you better be paying for the therapy.

-It is beyond weird to sleep in my bosses bed. He doesn't have a guest room and the couch was covered with kid gooey... what else was I supposed to do? I'm glad I at least brought the Tylenol PM.

-Kids say awesome things which will be used against their dad when he gets back. Included in these comments was Sam's commentary on the recent broken engagement of my boss and his ex-girlfriend, dubbed "that one." Sam said, "I thought they were in love but I guess they were just really good friends. That's ok though, she had a really, really, really, really, really bad son." Apparently the kid hit Sam with a bat and lied about it. No wonder the relationship wasn't meant to be!

-Another awesome part of the babysitting has been the daily calls from the county jail when Amy checks to see how the kids are doing. Doesn't that sound weird to anyone else? She must be seriously bored.

While there were some moments of serious enjoyment involved in my sojourn in single parenthood, I am relieved it's over. There is nothing like a few nights with three kids to remind me why I don't want kids. I'm going home to my dog.