apparently i'm ill equipped with lullabyes

If PMS was designed to make women want to have babies (if only to not have PMS for the intervening nine months), then babysitting while PMSsing was designed to make women not want to have babies... ever.

I love my little boyfriend, Max, I do, but last night, there were two Kates babysitting at his house, Friendly, Good Babysitter Kate (FGBK) and Overly Rational Bitchy Kate (ORBK). FGBK played a variety of games that had absolutely no point, engaged in conversations about imaginary friends from a TV show, read a number of books repeatedly and blew bubbles until she was lightheaded. RBK glowered in the corner, muttering things like "no, YOU turn the page" and "YOU blow a huge bubble."

But ORBK got slapped (metaphorically) when FGBK sat down to sing Max some lullabyes and came up practically dry. I mean, we started off with the one my mom used to sing to me, "my pigeon house I open wide, and set my pigeons free..." (which is odd enough in itself) And then I realized I was completely kicked. No more lullabyes in the repertoire. I tried one of the ones I know Lisa uses, "Corner of the Sky" (from Pippin) (since I actually know the lyrics), but I got cut off after two words because "that's my Mommy's song!" (who knew there were licensing rights to lullabyes?)

I dug deep. Sleep was coming on, and would be completely disrupted by the lingering silence pervading the room.

Nothing. Whole minutes worth of nothing.

Then genius struck! Mary Poppins! There's that one she sings about staying away and NOT falling asleep ("Stay Awake") but the tune refused to come to me, so I had to sing "Feed the Birds" (you know, "tuppence a bag") but very rapidly ran out of lyrics. (While writing this, I looked online and apparently there are more lyrics than "feed the birds, tuppence a bag, tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag" but did YOU know that?)

Nothing. He was beginning to stir, sit up a little, look around... and then...

John Denver! His songs put me to sleep, they should work! I started with "My Sweet Lady" and then hit "This Old Guitar" and halfway through "Leaving on a Jet Plane," I realized that Max was crying.

Apparently, he, too, was depressed about the passing of a 70s schmaltz giant.

"Oh no! Are you crying, Max?"

(sniffles) "Yeah."

"Was that song too sad?"

(sniffles) "Yeah. I want my mommy!"

"I know, sweetie. Do you want to get up and wait for her in the living room?" (she was due back momentarily)

(sniffle) "No. Sing something else."

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

All I can say is thank heavens for musical theatre (the little I know of it). We busted out some Annie ("Tomorrow") and some Really Rose ("I'm Really Rosie") and then, blessedly, Lisa came home.

And so did OPSM -- Overly Pouty Sleepy Max. Who wouldn't say good bye or give me a kiss, who told me that my psychology textbook was his, who said that he hadn't had any fun all night and who, in Lisa's words was "acting like a butt."

Luckily, when ORBK (Overly Rational Bitchy Kate, remember) returned, it coincided with my closing the front door and walking home. And all I have to say is this:

Lady, are you crying, do the tears belong to me?
Did you think our time together was all gone?
Lady, you've been dreaming. I'm as close as I can be.
And I swear to you our time has just begun.

(Thanks, John.)