The Babysitter Must Hate Me

“Ok, so, we’ll be back by about 10.”

“Any special instructions for putting the kids down?”

“My son may ask you to rock him a bit, if so, just sing him a couple of songs and then tell him you’re going to sleep, too.”

“What songs does he like?”

“Baa baa black sheep, twinkle twinkle….oh, and the What a piece of work is man soliloquoy from Hamlet.  Act 2, Scene 2.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not kidding.” ——————– Ok, that’s a hypothetical – for now. :)  But I’ve definitely created a monster, as every night that I do put the boy down, it now goes  like this: “You sing Shakespeare.”

“Shall I compare thee…”

“No!  New Shakespeare.”

“What a piece of work is man?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason…etc…”

“That from Hamlet?”

“Yes, that’s from Hamlet.”

“Now sing Shall I compare thee.” And I am not kidding in the slightest.  I’m just thankful that when Mommy puts him down, she is allowed to use the “Only Daddy knows those songs” excuse, and he seems to accept that. The boy is going to be 3 in May.  You people realize, of course, that when my kids are actually old enough to perform Shakespeare for the first time (assuming that they show an interest in it, blah blah not forcing kids yadda yadda), my heart is in fact going to explode.  I can’t wait.

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