I love kids, I really do. Over the summer I volunteer at a preschool, I help out in a kindergarten classroom during the school year, I Y.E.S. in a third grade classroom, and I think that my five year old sister is the cutest thing that has ever existed. But the two kids that I babysit have changed my perspective. A four year old and a five year old. I walked into the job ready to have fun. I was wrong. They have pushed my buttons in ways that I never thought were possible. Now each time I go over, I brace myself for hours and hours of nonstop screaming and crying. Like tonight. They slapped each other. They slapped me. They hid my phone. They threw their dinner on the ground. One peed his pants. The other somehow lost her shirt. They threw massive tantrums. But of course, right before they fall asleep, they decide to be super sweet and adorable. When they say things like "Becky, you're the best babysitter ever," and give me a hug, I just can't stay mad at them. Darn kids.