Housesitting, day two…

And thus I find myself at the end of the second day minus two people, one bag of used kitty litter, and a fuck-ton of weeds. I must say that this gig is fairly easy; get up, shower, do stuff, chill at my computer (still sadly without Internet), and then go to sleep. The animals are fed, the plants are watered, and as I’ve said before, the weeds are demolished with no remorse. I suppose I could’ve finished the job faster had I used the weedwhacker in the garage, but given that my proficiency with that powertool is non-existent, I decided to stick to what I know and yank each and every one out by hand. What doesn’t kill you makes you resent each and every weed for daring to grow in those awful crevices and all that.

So, I started out the day with three people and myself in the house. Now, I’m down to the eldest of the two brothers who is staying here in order to go to some summer school enrichment program, poor lad. Yes, he’s snarky and he’s got one hell of a smartmouth, but he leaves well enough alone if he’s got LittleBigPlanet on, which suits me just fine. My job description said to take care of cats and dogs though, not little boys who feel the need to bash everyone with a frying pan in the game. It’s a shame that the boys’ uncle left, but that can’t be helped; he’s got to go to school too and, really, he’s already done enough by entertaining the lads with Modern Warfare 3 last night.

It not until I’m around pre-teen people that I realize just how old I really am. My idea of a good time is sitting down and reading or sitting down and websurfing or just sitting down. Their idea of fun involved plenty of Nerf guns and the development of an economy to buy even bigger Nerf guns.

…And I just got the internet. Off I go! And remember: passwords are case-sensitive.

[And, just a bit later…]

Watching one of the boys play LittleBigPlanet 2. Kind of reminds me of Terraria, to be honest, or Minecraft. Looks rather interesting, all the same, so I think I’ll play it sometime if I’m able. Maybe then I can give my impressions on it, as I am most likely going to do at a later date. I mean, I can see it’s fun from just watching it, but I don’t feel right until I actually try my hand at it.

Anyway, time for a rousing game of “Get The Kids To Sleep At A Reasonable Time”! So far, it’s 0 for 3, as Matt would rather perfect his factory of sacktoys instead of going to sleep, waving off my requests with one of those “Don’t worry, I’m a professional. I’ve been awake for longer and I’ve woken up on time.” Somehow, I rather doubt it, but there you are.

Let’s see about the other two lads upstairs, who are busily killing each other in Halo… Well, they’re watching cartoons and it’s 9:35 p.m. I’m sure they’ll be fine.

Watch, I go to sleep and they burn down the house-oh, wait, that’s bad.

…I am not going fondly into this good night, am I? Though I desperately want to… I’m gonna get up early in the morning regardless, though the addition of babysitting along with housesitting is, again, not sitting well with me. I feel hoodwinked, conned; there was nothing about taking care of someone’s children in this job description, just cats, plants, and a dog. Is it too late to ask for a raise, I wonder? Or would that be rude, despite the greater rudeness here stemming from a lack of communication? I mean, would it have been too much to say “Oh, by the way, Arlen, we’re gonna leave you and three kids alone in a house chock full of electronics stemming from every socket in the house with no real authority to tell them to bugger off to bed! Now, have fun!” A little heads up would’ve been nice…

Am I bitter? No. Resentful? I suppose. Going to be unable to play with the PS3 because I’m probably going to be a big softie and yield to a thirteen year-old’s whims? Hell fucking yes. I may be crabby, but I am by no means anywhere near evil enough to say “No.” and “Because I said so, now stop watching videos on YouTube and go to sleep!” Surely, they can be responsible for their own well-being. They’re children, not animals!

…And there’s that image of a house again, burnt to a crisp, floating at the periphery of my nightmares. Whatever.

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