Babysitting and Slammin Roommates

Okay, so today is glorious, Glor-freaking-ious Friday, with a capital G and a capital F.

Shut up, it makes sense.

As per usual, I am foregoing a social life in favor of making fifteen an hour babysitting. The two chillens are in bed, and I have been reduced to suppressing nausea, watching poorly animated cartoons on Nick, and, of course, blogging.

The cartoons may be inducing the nausea, but I don't have the energy to find the freaking remote which M (the spunky, tenacious 3-year-old I just put to bed) probably ate or hide or maybe just crushed with her bare hands sometime during the course of the evening.

Yeah, she's really strong for a 3-year-old. Sometimes we get in fights.

Sometimes, she wins.

Regardless, I adore these kids (M and her 1-year-old brother, I), and it's seriously therapeutic for me to play with them. We spent two hours singing to Disney music at the top of our lungs and dancing around like pagans. At least, me and M danced around. I ran around in little circles, occasionally shrieking like a wounded seal. Y'know, just for a helluvit. After that, we ate meat and cheese for dinner. And then we ate a bunch of chocolate and drank juice.

And I get PAID to do this.

I love this job. I'm going to be so sad when they move away in January.

Earlier, I was hanging out with R and C (I don't know what I would do without them; they're seriously my lifelines here at ye olde BYU), and they had a lovely conversation, which went something like this.

C: (brandishing a bowl of some unidentifiable dinner which she had, apparently, cooked all by herself) Sometimes, I consider myself to be quite an amazing person.

Then there's this really long pause. I was kinda out of it, so I was actually taking this comment seriously. R, on the other hand, saw fit to take advantage of such an obvious lead to comedic genius, so she goes:

Is this one of those times . . . or should I just add "in bed" to the end of that?

So the next time you're about to make a completely innocent comment, consider this, dear readers: Can these words possibly be twisted into a horribly perverted way by my dearest friends?

If the answer is yes, I would suggest speaking as loudly as possible. Just for the lulz.