What's wrong with me?
I'm babysitting my friend's little boy this week, remember - the heart stealer?. He and I were running errands yesterday, after undergoing the painful process of getting a one-year-old AND his stroller down a flight of stairs in a walk-up building, out two heavy doors, and down another mini-flight of stairs outside.
When we came to a corner and waited for the street light to change at the crosswalk (my rulebook for walking in NYC is modified with babies in my care), a guy sitting on a fire hydrant (couldn't tell you why he was sitting on a fire hydrant) says hi to my friend's curly haired, blue eyed toddler.
He says in a manner much to personal for strangers on the streets of New York City, "Hey little guy! Hi! Ohhhh...WOW!...what beautiful eyes!"
Then the stranger looks at me and says, "WOW! Congratulations!"
Now, aside from the fact that that is the weirdest way to say somebody's baby is cute, like the parents have won some providential prize or something, overlooking that fact, I say with a sheepish grin,
The light changed. I got my white walking man. I crossed the street.
THANKS? Thanks. THANKS! What? Now why in the world did I take credit for a baby that's not mine?!?! I've been thinking about this long and hard since yesterday, because the second I said thanks and crossed the street, I debated turning around and saying, Ummm...actually.... And though I myself KNOW I am not in any way, shape, or form a nut nanny, I can't help but think: Hand That Rocks the Cradle.
I realize I committed the biggest babysitter crime EVER.
So it's necessary I evaluate the possible reasons I would commit such a hanus crime, and here's what I've come up with.
A) A nut nanny
B) A woman whose biological clock is ticking and...it's about. that. time.
C) A suspicious New Yorker who just wanted to get across the street without telling a strange man her life story.
I'm gonna go with C.
That has to be it.