The Life of Bon: Baby-sitting gone bad

Monday, October 10, 2011

Baby-sitting gone bad

Friday, 5 pm
I was buried in my down comforter, in a world far far away where disciplining 16 year olds, surviving parent teacher conferences, and grading papers doesn't exist.  Somewhere in that half asleep/ half awake world I heard a commotion.  Footsteps.  Door.  Bang.  Something hitting a wall.  Grunt.  Backpack dropping.

"Bons!  I'm home!  I got a surprise!" 
"Leave me alone!  I'm sleeping."  I'm not exactly a sweetheart when I'm tired.
"Bons!  Wake up!  Look!  Look! Look!  I brought something home for you!" 
Fine.  I mean, who could resist that?  I lifted my head high off the pillow and poked around the corner to see this:


"We're babysitting him for the weekend!" Hubs declared.
"Babysitting?"
"Well,  you've been wanting a baby and all. So I thought we could practice this weekend!"  (It's true.  That one conference talk about kids got me momentairly-most-definitely hankering for a baby!)  "You see, we didn't have anywhere to put him before the show tomorrow,"  Hubs continued,  "so me and you get to watch him.  Come on...let's just pretend he's our kid.  It'll be fun.  I promise!" 
Not totally sold on the idea, I questioned  "So what exactly do we do when we babysit a giant teddy bear?"  "Whatever we want!"  Hubs declared, as he carefully arranged Big Bear to be laying on the couch with one arm in back of his head, sending out quite the sexy vibe.  "How would you like to wake up to this every morning?!?" Hubs pointed to the bear.
"I think it would be weird.  Are we still going out for dinner tonight?"  I was obviously less enthused than Hubs.
"Well, we can't now.  We have to baby-sit!"
"You're joking."
"Or I guess we could take him with us."
"Take him with us?!?"  I freaked.  (Here's the honest truth.  I'm married to the guy, I know,  But I still can't always tell when Hubs is being straight with me or when he's pulling my leg.)
"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Bon calm down.  I'm teasing," Hubs said as he moved the bear to the kitchen table.   "Let's feed him here, put him to bed, and then go out."


Finally I could see that Hubs wasn't about to budge and I better just play along and make this as painless as possible.  So we sat Big Bear at the table for awhile. About 20 minutes later, Hubs declared, "Alright, Big Bear ate.  We can go out now."
"Thank goodness," I said reaching for my purse.
"Oh, but wait!" Hubs interrupted, "We haven't put him to bed yet.  Silly us, we can't just let Big Bear stay awake while we go out.  Who knows what kind of mischief he could get into." 
So I waited again, while Hubs gently moved Big Bear to the couch, fluffed the pillow, and draped a blanket over the big guy.

Friday, 8 pm
Dinner at my favorite restaurant, Friday night, life could not be any better.
Actually... I take that back.  Life could get better.
Because somehow Big Bear was creeping his sneaky way into my romantic dinner conversation.
"Isn't he a cute bear?" Hubs wanted to know, "Doesn't he do the greatest things?"
"Yes, he does.  Have you seen the waitor?  He didn't bring any lemons."
"Isn't it going to be cute when he has little friends that he brings over?  And when he starts to talk and walk?"
"Yes, yes, now lets talk about me.  Or you.  Or anything besides the bear.  How was class today?"
"It was good, but the best part was getting the bear.  You should have seen everyone on campus when I was carrying Big Bear on my shoulders.  They were all looking and pointing and they thought it was so cute."
"You know what's cute?  You're cute..."  I could see I was quickly losing the battle.  Flirting might be the only way to bring the boy back to reality.
"Ah, thanks Bon.  You're the best.  What do you think Big Bear is doing at home right now?"
And thus the dinner conversation went. 

Friday, 11:30 pm
I was climbing into bed, excited to cuddle with Hubs and do nothing for the next eight or nine hours but sleep and snuggle.
"I wonder if I should sleep out on the couch with Big Bear.  I don't want him to be afraid." Hubs said.
"No.  You're sleeping in here."   My patience with the stuffed animal was long since gone.
"But, Bon, I need to take care of him."
"No you don't!  ME!  You need to take care of me!"  I snapped. 
"But, Bon, the bear needs attention."

And that was it.  Right there.  The moment he said the bear needed attention was the moment I truly lost it.

"ENOUGH!  I want Attention!  I need attention!  A BEAR does not need attention! Stop talking about that dumb thing.  All you ever do is think about him and talk about him and put all your energy on him!  And he's just a bear!  Will you just think about how that makes me feel?"
"Yah, that's true... I sure do love that bear.  Imagine how much I would love a child."
"Oh, you'd be bat crazy over a child!  I'd never get a lick of attention around here!"
"So... that probably means you don't still want a baby soon?"
"No!  I most certainly do not!  Six hours with that bear and I am convinced I am completely not ready to share you with kids!  Convinced, I say!"
Hubs chuckled to himself.  "Okay, Bon.  I'll sleep in the bed with you.  I think this is starting to get to you- we can stop pretending now if you want."
I breathed a deep sigh of relief.  "Thank you..."
He gave me a peck on the lips and then rolled over in bed.  He mumbled something.

And while I can't be certain, it sounded an awful lot like, "I knew it would work."