Sitter Lady takes over.

Despite my low-key expectations for Henry and his new sitter, they went right out for an adventure. This was good for me, because I haven’t been able to do nearly enough fretting lately. So as soon as they were gone I got to work! 

I had rather thought they would stay inside, although a little voice in me was shrieking ARE YOU NUTS SEND THEM TO THE PLAYGROUND. Because if they were here? Henry would be in my office every few minutes, updating me on whatever events were transpiring downstairs.

But anyway it turned out it wasn’t up to me. Sitter Lady showed up, looked around, and announced, “I like to be out and about. So we’re off to the playground!”

Shouldn’t you ask my permission or something? I thought but did not say, because I was already intimidated by her.


“Okay, sure,” I said. 

“And Charlie will come!” she announced to no one in particular, as the dog heard his name and proceeded to throw his body toward the ceiling.

“You’re taking the dog? You’re sure you can handle that?” I asked meekly, thinking oh god that dog’s going to pull her all over the place and Henry will leap into the street while she’s trying to rein him in and WHY CAN’T I SAY THESE THINGS OUT LOUD.

Before I could stop her, she had Charlie’s leash in her hands, which is Charlie’s cue to lose his shit. He whinnied and mooed and made every kind of sound you wouldn’t think a dog could make, all while skittering around S.L (that’s Sitter Lady) and flogging her with his tail while she put on Henry’s shoes.

Henry, meanwhile, had decided that S.L. was probably his new mother and that was okay with him. From their first meeting, he knew that S.L. knows nothing about Star Wars, poor thing. Before she showed up he told me this. “I’ll be her teacher,” he said. “She needs to learn about the Force.”

So while she tied his shoes and expounded on the many delights and health-giving properties of fresh air, and I stood over them practicing my fretting techniques, Henry placed one guy after the next in front of her, stating their names and personalities. “This is Greedo. He’s a bad guy. This is Han Solo. He’s good and he shoots Greedo but it’s okay because Greedo is bad.” And so on.


And all at once they were out the door. “YOU’RE SURE YOU CAN HANDLE THEM?” I called out as they bounded down the street, Henry holding S.L.’s hand, S.L. holding the leash that held the blur that was Charlie in her other hand.  S.L gave me an amused little wave, a wave that distinctly said, Lady, do you know how many kids I watch? You think your little dog is going to be a problem for me?

Still, I fretted, and then finally I snuck over to the playground, just to make sure she hadn’t sold him or anything. There they all were: Henry running around, S.L. keeping an eagle eye on him, Charlie lazing in the afternoon sun. There was no reason for me to be there. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.