Gay Uncle Alert
It has been a very, very long time since I’ve had to take care of a kid for any length of time. To say that I’m anxious would be a heart-attack-serious whopper of an understatement.
Simone Muad’Dib is coming over to Dory’s to stay with me for most of the day tomorrow (well, technically, today) while my brother is in Corsicana for a wedding and Nicole is working a shift, because my parents are in Tulsa for the weekend (yeah, I don’t know why in any real sense, either), so The Mom is unavailable.
I have chocolate milk, I have apple juice, I have some cereal, I have Tyson chicken patties, I have some yogurt. I have no fucking idea of how to deal with this situation beyond that, because I am so completely out of practice with human creatures under the age of six. Hell, I’ve given up on men under the age of 32.
Fortunately, Dory has the collector’s edition DVD of just about every Disney animated classic from the last 20 years, and two large-screen televisions. That should keep her still for about thirty percent of the time (roughly two hours and forty-two minutes).
At least she’s big enough to walk on her own, so I don’t have to worry about dropping her on her head. She’s three, so she can understand when I tell her what not to touch or what not to do. And she’s already potty trained, so I just have to move the lift chair over the toilet once Dory’s done for the morning. Oh, and clear enough shit out of my car to be able to fit her car seat into it for when I take her back to her mother’s apartment tomorrow night.
May we all survive this without too much permanent emotional trauma.