Adventures in babysitting. Kinda.
Dad got me up this morning and asked me to keep the sister for a little bit while he got his hair cut and his weekly massage. 'Sure,' I said, 'no problem.' I figured he wouldn't be gone but a couple of hours and Grace wouldn't get up for a while after I did.
Keep in mind, of course, that my sister is a hellish brat, runs the house, gets exactly what she wants, and there's nothing anyone can do about it because my stepmother refuses to subscribe to corporal punishment. Which, of course, kinda limits my abilities for her, but not exactly. Dad can't thump her without getting yelled at, himself, but if I thump her... then he gets fussed at, but I'm not sure he minds so much.
Grace is making it really easy to keep her this morning. She started out fine, speaking when spoken to (she normally tries to talk around her thumb, if at all) and talking over breakfast. She helped me figure out what bowl was hers and tell me how much cereal and how much milk she wanted. We ate cereal and I thought the hardest part was over, that we'd get dressed and go play outside until Dad got home and we went to go check on the sunflower fields. I was wrong, sadly for Grace.
The child has no manners - no please, thank you, yes and no sir, ma'am and no ma'am, excuse me. She giggles when she farts and announces it as if it's a comic act. I know it sounds like bitter older sister talking, but any of that stuff when I was a kid would've gotten my ass unquestionably busted. Not this child. She gets 'timeout' (I guess you can tell I think that's a crock). She knows what she's supposed to do, but she also knows she can get away with not doing any of it most of the time. Case in point this morning when she tried to leave the table when she was done and didn't ask to be excused.
She's been sitting there ever since. More power to her for being hardheaded, but I don't think she's realized that I have a helluva lot more practice at that than she does.
Damn if she's not making my job pretty easy.