From the Mouths of Babes

I spent yesterday evening doing pretty much the best moolah-making activity ever, and naturally, one I also feel a bit guilty getting paid for. I babysat my favourite professor's daughter, Daisy. Basically, I went there straight from work, got given free food and copious glasses of white wine (yes yes, I had no choice though! My reputation as a young soak precedes me, particularly with my teachers), played Thai monopoly for a couple of hours (and got totally whupped by Daisy) and then fell asleep at about 10.30, in a bed my teacher had made up for me. And made tea and breakfast by an extremely hungover teach when I got up this morning. It's a hard life!

I wish I could refuse payment, but I could really use the extra dosh at the moment, particularly as my regular job made a mistake on my paycheck this month and has yet to rectify it. Bah humbug. When I have a proper job I will happily babysit Daisy for free.

I love spending time with children. I remember clearly what it was like being Daisy's age (seven), and I think I was pretty much the same as I am now, minus all the regrets, heartbreak and stretchmarks. I used to get irritated with adults who insisted on talking to me in a patronizing manner, as if I had the mental capacity of a worm. The best ones were the ones who actually had conversations with me or, better yet, whizzed me around on their shoulders. The main difference between adults and children is experience, not intelligence. Plus kids are usually refreshingly honest, a quality that seems to wane as people get older, more cynical and more eager to present themselves in a particular way. I talked to Daisy about love as we rolled the dice and snapped up prime Thai locations. I told her about Guitar Boy and she told me about this ten year old she likes at Stage Coach. She told me I should act a little less fussed even if I felt like jumping up and down. We agreed that you can't control who you get interested in, only how you act, and that can be pretty difficult sometimes.

I don't think I'm the greatest babysitter in the world though... before bed I made a huge faux pas of bringing my glass of wine with me, which caused Daisy to look at me oddly. I have a habit at home of sipping wine when reading in bed. I then realised how awful it would look if teach or her partner woke up before I did and saw me passed out next to Daisy, glass of wine on the floor. So with a heavy heart I tipped it down the sink. Also, in the morning, while we were watching the news, Jose Mourinho came on, and teach mentioned he was number 2 on Her List. Next to Johnny Depp, I asked? Yep. I asked her if she thought Alan Rickman was sexy (as I do) and she pondered it. Daisy suddenly piped out, what's sexy? And then followed a cringe-inducing conversation where teach had to try and explain what 'sexy' was, alluding to special hugs and the like. I felt terrible... my children are going to be so messed up!

Anyway, my short lunch break is almost over... I'm due back at Daisy's place this evening, for a dinner with my masters' class.