Oh, The Poor, Wee Souls!

“Hey guys, wouldn’t it be cool if I got to work with the police?”
“Would it be dangerous?”
“Who would look after us?”

Of course, the answers are “no” and “seriously?”. The boys would either play all day in their underpants with no food or would scrounge from the pantry or fridge themselves if they didn’t see me in a congealing mess of offal and writhing ants, or they’d call 911 if they did. In either scenario, I consider that to be taking care of themselves. Case closed.
5yo starts full-time school in September and turns 6 (gasp!) in December, so they are old enough to be taking care of me! Any theoretical jobs I could hold down would be during school hours in all probability, so the day to day love and trudgery would still be on my shoulders rather than some slender nanny with long hair and an attitude (bitch better have an attitude if she’s taking care of my monkeys). And let’s face it, a bit of before or after-school care would probably be the pinnacle of my children’s days, and especially if I came home with tales of heroics and standoffs from the world of filing cabinets and multi-line phones.
So I guess it’s just myself I have to convince.

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