What To Do With A Dead Chicken (And Other Issues You Run Into Whilst Babysitting My Brothers)


12:34pm: Connor (age 7) walks into the kitchen, crying. "Pikachu diiiiiiiied!" he whimpers. Pikachu is (was) one of the three chickens my mom is raising. The others are Bolt and Combustion. A blizzard came in last night and poor Pikachu (who was already sick) didn't make it. He lies on a baking sheet in the garage, (which is rather funny now that I think of it) until I unceremoniously chuck him off the side of the house and down into a ravine. Bon appetit, foxes.

12:38pm: I discover that Combustion has laid his first egg! Connor excitedly retrieves it from the coop and washes the poop off it. I do not eat this egg.

1:13pm: More poop. I walk into the downstairs bathroom and see an explosion in the toilet. No, really. It looks like someone took a dump and threw a cherry bomb in there. Naturally, nooooooobody has any idea how it happened, but I am told that said explosion has not precluded Caden, Connor, nor their friend Brenden from CONTINUING TO USE THE TOILET.

1:40pm: I'm sitting in the basement when I hear a large thud just outside the window. A small child, Connor, has fallen into the window well, cushioned by two feet of snow. "THAT WAS AWESOOOOME!!!!" he exclaims. Two more small children proceed to jump into the window well.

4:00pm: It's time for Brenden to go home because we have some chores to do. I announce that we are going to clean the basement together (which reeks of three sweaty little boys and all their snow gear), and that afterwards the time for computer games, TV, and Nintendo DS has ended. We are reading books until dinner, and then hitting up the dollar theater for The Muppets.

4:15pm: Basement clean. Everybody reading. This mom stuff is easy.

4:20pm: Connor's cold worsens. I give him some Dimetap and he curls up for a nap.

4:21pm: Caden (age 9) has abandoned his reading post on the stairs. A book lies open on a step.

4:22pm: I catch Caden cowering behind the bunkbed in his room, playing his DS. "Hand it over." "But I'm so boooorrrreeeeed." "READ."

4:45pm: I've showered. I go downstairs to get my lotion and, while in the bathroom, I see Caden come down the stairs as well. I spy on him using the bathroom mirror. He can't see me. I watch him as he lifts up couch cushions, looking for his DS.

4:46pm: "You're never going to find it." Caden turns on the TV. "HEY! That's not allowed either, remember?" Caden whines. "Caden! Don't you see how sad it is that you can't be entertained without the computer, TV, or your DS? You're a really smart kid. You should be able to find ways to be entertained without technology." A glimmer of self-realization flickers in Caden's eyes. He comes up with an excuse. "Well, I kind of have a headache." "No you don't. Go draw something or play the piano." "I don't know how to play the piano." "Then learn."

5:02pm: Caden falls asleep on the couch.

6:16pm: Dinner done. It's an easy casserole that I found a recipe for on the back of a Stovetop box.

6:18pm: Ewww, this is nasty. But if I admit it, that'll give Caden and Connor an excuse to snub it. Be strong. Just. keep. eating.

6:20pm: Seriously, what is wrong with this stuff?! It's ground beef, kidney beans, salsa, Stovetop, and cheese--sounds good in theory. Why is it so watery? I drained the fat from the beef.

6:21pm: I bet it was the fact that I used that weird CANNED GROUND BEEF that my mom buys.

6:22pm: Kiana speaks up. "Thanks, Kristi. This is good." What a sweet girl. "Really?" I reply. "I think it's kind of . . . mushy." Colby: "I wasn't going to say anything." Kiana: "Neither was I. But it's the thought that counts!" Connor: "Yeah, this is like lunch lady stuff." Everybody proceeds to pick up the mush with their spoons and plop it onto their plates, lunch-lady-style.

6:23pm: "Who wants cereal?"

6:26pm: Caden happily discovers leftover spaghetti in the fridge (it's his favorite). I tell everyone that they at least have to have some applesauce with whatever they're eating, so they kind of get a fruit in to make it kind of a meal.

6:34pm: Caden has not eaten his applesauce. He tries to sneak away. "CADEN. Applesauce, bro." "But I'm not hungryyyyyy." "Yeah, right. I just saw you snarf down a bowl of spaghetti like it was nothing. Get over here." "But I don't like that kind of applesauce." "I've seen you eat it before. You want me to spoon-feed you like a baby? C'mon. Let's do it." I drag him to the kitchen table. He starts to whine and cry. "I don't like this applesauce!" "Okay, well you have to eat a fruit. We've got blueberries in the fridge, strawberries, bananas, what do you want?" "Ummm . . . can I have a PB&J with strawberry jam?" I try not to laugh. "No, that's not a fruit. That's sugar. Tell you what, let's compromise. You eat four bites of this applesauce, and you can be done." Caden reluctantly agrees and starts to eat. He eats half-spoonfuls and I call him out for it. He chuckles and admits that two spoonfuls for him counts as one bite. He does this mostly to show off his math skills--he knows that two halves equal one whole. Four spoonfuls later, he prepares to take bite #2.5. He looks down at his applesauce cup.

6:41pm: "Heeeeeey. By the time I take four bites, all the applesauce will be gone." I smirk. "Yeah, you think you're the only smart one in this house, buddy?"

6:50pm: We cancel our plans to go see The Muppets at the dollar theater because of Connor's unrelenting cough. (I know it's just the dollar theater, but nobody deserves to have their night out at the movies ruined by Mr. Hackasaurus.) Caden and Connor are more than happy with this decision, as it frees up their night to play the computer games which I so diabolically forbade them from earlier.

10:25pm: My sister's friend's sister's car (got that?) gets stuck in our cul-de-sac, which is covered in deep snow. We spend a half hour trying to set it free, but to no avail. Eventually her dad comes to tow it out with his truck.

11:03pm: I sit here at the computer wondering how I'm going to survive two more days of this.


  1. Yeah, I spent a week in Seattle babysitting my sister's three little kids last summer. Birth control indeed.

  2. Also, you made a pretty humorous error in this blog. Unless you were kidding. Can you find it? :)

  3. Can't find it. Must've been kidding :)

  4. "Combustion has laid his first egg". Dude-chickens don't lay eggs...that's kind of chick-chicken thing.

  5. Pffff. Chick, chicken, mare, stud, potato, potahto. There are only he-chickens and she-chickens in my vernacular :P

  6. I love this. Go you for sticking it out!

    Your siblings are so nice to not initially say anything for how bad the dinner was... I'm still trying to get grown adults (who will remain nameless) to be that polite!

  7. Combustion is a male chicken.


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