I love babysitting children. It's like you're the guardian angel of these little living things that would probably choke, drown, and fall out of a window without you. This is why I take my duties very seriously when I'm called to babysit.
One of the first things I do when I'm watching someone's kids is sit them down on the couch and explain that houses have a lot of hidden dangers. I tell them stair cases are not a toy and should be treated with respect. I explain that if they get too close to an outlet they could be electrocuted. And I teach them never to swallow anything they find in their basement, bathroom, or refrigerator because everything is poisonous. After I'm done with my little warning spiel I explain that they may get off the couch if they're going to be careful, but they will probably still die.
Now that I have the children playfully cowering in the center of the living room, it's time to play a nice, safe game of nap time. This is where all of the kids lie motionless on the floor while I watch TV. The game usually goes quite well until one of the children starts whining that they're hungry or need to go to the bathroom. I just laugh and tell them it'll only be a few more hours. Young children are so needy.
After I'm done watching television it's time to eat something. I let the children go into the kitchen and make their favorite food and then have them bring it out for me to eat. This has always been one of my fondest parts of babysitting because it's so precious watching a toddler use their very first butcher knife. It's like, are they going to slice off a piece of bread, or something entirely different? You just never know.
Once snack time is over I'm usually running a little low on ideas for activities. We've already played a nice game of nap time followed by feed the babysitter, so what's next? At this point I like to play a little game called "Hush Little Baby." This is where I tell the children to shut up whenever they start talking. It sounds easy but you'd be surprised at how much kids can complain. It's just a constant barrage of, "I'm hungry. I'm cold. I'm choking." And even though they may not actually come out and say they're choking, by the way they make all of those noises, I can tell they're thinking it. It's like, Nice job Little Timmy, but I wasn't born yesterday like you were.
By the time "Hush Little Baby" comes to an end I figure we'll get in a quick round of playing dead. We don't have anything better to do, and besides, Little Timmy has already started without us. Before we get things underway, however, the parents usually come home and ruin our fun. Upon entering the living room their smiles often fade to concern as they exclaim, "Why is our Little Timmy turning blue!?" I just laugh and say, "Oh, we were just about to play dead." As they rush over to their little boy I figure my work here is done and head out the door. While I walk I always feel a sense of pride because, hey, I just made a difference.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Lawyering
My palms grew sweaty as the plaintiff's attorney gave his opening statement. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, first, I just want to thank you for helping ensure justice prevails here today. Without you there would be no law and order, no peace and justice, no accountability and fairness." He was good. Already thanking people when they hadn't even done anything yet. People love that. "...and after I have meticulously presented each piece of evidence in this case, I'm certain you will find the defendant had the motive, the capacity, and the opportunity to commit these heinous crimes. And you will find him guilty on all counts. All the way from two counts of aggravated assault and murder, to three counts of grand larceny. Thank you and I know you will come to a fair and just verdict at the conclusion of this trial."
I was up next. The first opening statement of my career. I was so nervous I could hardly talk, so I attempted to copy my predecessor's opening as best I could. "Hey jury people. Thanks for coming out today. Without your prevailing winds of support, we wouldn't have our courts and lawyers, checks and balances, cowboys and Indians." So far so good. Nervously trying to recall what the plaintiff's attorney said next, I continued, "Once I insistently push each piece of evidence in your face, I'm certain you will find that the defendant can't even count, let alone commit murder. Thanks for coming to the fair and I know you plan on concluding this trial with a verdict." I wasn't sure what I had just said, but I was pretty certain I nailed it.
Once we got into the heart of the trial my opponent began to turn up the heat. He was producing evidence left and right and calling witnesses to the stand like it was his job. I had to do something or my client wasn't going to stand a chance. Nervously watching the plaintiff work the courtroom like a fiddle, I began objecting to anything I could think of. I objected when he asked a witness to state their name. "Objection. Badgering the witness!" I objected when he talked too loudly. "Objection! Disturbing the peace!" I objected when he strayed too far from his desk. "Objection! Traveling!" I even objected when he paused for too long. "Objection! He's wasting my time!"
The trial dragged on this way until I was finally kicked out of the courtroom for objecting to one of my opponents objections:
Plaintiff: "Objection your honor! He's leading the witness!"
Defendant: "I OBJECT!"
Plaintiff: "You can't object my objection!"
Defendant: "OVERRULED!"
Plaintiff: "Your honor, the defendants council is out of order!"
Defendant: "OBJECTION! Speculation!
The judge ordered me to leave the courtroom until closing statements. Now it was go time. I had to think of a way to convince the jury that my client wasn't capable of murder and quick. So far all I had proven in this case was that my opponent, the judge, and my client didn't like me. It was a start but it wasn't going to win the trial. Then, as I walked back into the courtroom for my closing statement, I thought of the perfect plan to prove my clients innocence. Standing up and walking over to the front of my desk, I took a gun out of my pocket, gave it to my client, and said, "Kill someone." The courtroom erupted in gasps to which I responded, "Oh relax, this is just a demonstration to prove my client isn't capable of murder."
Apparently, contrary to logic, giving the defendant a gun during a trial is against the law and not admissible evidence in court. I was disbarred and was no longer allowed to practice law in the U.S., Canada, or in any place where there may be people.
I was up next. The first opening statement of my career. I was so nervous I could hardly talk, so I attempted to copy my predecessor's opening as best I could. "Hey jury people. Thanks for coming out today. Without your prevailing winds of support, we wouldn't have our courts and lawyers, checks and balances, cowboys and Indians." So far so good. Nervously trying to recall what the plaintiff's attorney said next, I continued, "Once I insistently push each piece of evidence in your face, I'm certain you will find that the defendant can't even count, let alone commit murder. Thanks for coming to the fair and I know you plan on concluding this trial with a verdict." I wasn't sure what I had just said, but I was pretty certain I nailed it.
Once we got into the heart of the trial my opponent began to turn up the heat. He was producing evidence left and right and calling witnesses to the stand like it was his job. I had to do something or my client wasn't going to stand a chance. Nervously watching the plaintiff work the courtroom like a fiddle, I began objecting to anything I could think of. I objected when he asked a witness to state their name. "Objection. Badgering the witness!" I objected when he talked too loudly. "Objection! Disturbing the peace!" I objected when he strayed too far from his desk. "Objection! Traveling!" I even objected when he paused for too long. "Objection! He's wasting my time!"
The trial dragged on this way until I was finally kicked out of the courtroom for objecting to one of my opponents objections:
Plaintiff: "Objection your honor! He's leading the witness!"
Defendant: "I OBJECT!"
Plaintiff: "You can't object my objection!"
Defendant: "OVERRULED!"
Plaintiff: "Your honor, the defendants council is out of order!"
Defendant: "OBJECTION! Speculation!
The judge ordered me to leave the courtroom until closing statements. Now it was go time. I had to think of a way to convince the jury that my client wasn't capable of murder and quick. So far all I had proven in this case was that my opponent, the judge, and my client didn't like me. It was a start but it wasn't going to win the trial. Then, as I walked back into the courtroom for my closing statement, I thought of the perfect plan to prove my clients innocence. Standing up and walking over to the front of my desk, I took a gun out of my pocket, gave it to my client, and said, "Kill someone." The courtroom erupted in gasps to which I responded, "Oh relax, this is just a demonstration to prove my client isn't capable of murder."
Apparently, contrary to logic, giving the defendant a gun during a trial is against the law and not admissible evidence in court. I was disbarred and was no longer allowed to practice law in the U.S., Canada, or in any place where there may be people.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Magician's Nightmare
It was 5 PM and I was running late. I had to be on the other side of town in half an hour to perform my magic act for little Jimmy's sixth birthday. Hastily rushing through the house, I grabbed the car keys, my top hat, and a pair of pants and ran out the door.
While on my way I figured it would be best if I drove at my vehicle's top speed. This way I would not only get to my destination as fast as possible, but I would also be obeying some sort of speed limit. Then, just as I reached the half-way mark of my trip, the unthinkable happened; I was pulled over for speeding. I tried telling the cop I was a magician and everything he had just witnessed was an illusion, but he didn't buy it.
As I pulled back onto the street I drove with caution until I was around the corner. After that it was pedal to the medal as I skidded around corners, took shortcuts through private property, and crashed into a tree.
Needless to say, if I was going to make my appointment I'd be doing it on foot. I blindly sprinted across side streets and fearlessly bound over fences with a new sense of determination. Little Jimmy wasn't going to be let down on his birthday. Not on my watch.
After some small tussles with a couple of German Sheppard's, a chain-link fence, and a jeep, I finally arrived at my destination. I may have been missing my top hat, most of my props, and my shirt, but I was still ready to put on a magic act no one would soon forget. Looking at my watch, I realized I was a little late. All the more reason to give my clients the best show of their lives.
As I stared at the front door I tried to think of a spectacular entrance, something that would start things off with a bang. I could knock on their door and ask if they ordered a pizza. Then, when they said no I could respond, "How about a magician!" as I magically pulled a rabbit, dove, and Basset Hound out of my pocket. Or I could simply do a normal entrance and save all the tricks for the show. It was a tough call, but in the end I decided to go around back and break in through the window for that element of surprise.
It was very dark upon entering the house, but by the way I kept knocking over glasses and breaking dishes, I assumed I was on the kitchen counter. Then, just as my eyes began to adjust, the light switch was suddenly flipped on. Squinting over at the far entrance of the room I saw little Jimmy's parents standing in shock as a half naked man rummaged around in their sink. My plan worked to a tee. I had already rendered my clients speechless and I had yet to perform a single trick.
I jumped off the counter and continued to mystify by pulling their tablecloth out from under a set of dishes. Once that didn't work I went right into creating the illusion that I was levitating by swinging upside down from the chandelier. Then, after the chandelier ripped from the ceiling, I magically broke my fall with my face. I could tell I was knocking this performance out of the park by the way the parents stood frozen in what must have been complete awe. Now, all I had to do was end with something spectacular. I thought of doing a card trick or juggling some apples, but that wasn't good enough. Then it hit me. I grabbed a butcher knife from the counter, looked back at my still speechless couple, and said, "Which one of you wants to get cut in half?"
As little Jimmy dialed 911 from the living room, I had to flee from the house before I had a chance to perform my final act. I was kind of glad he did because I never understood how to cut someone in half without killing them. A large part of being a successful magician is having the ability to distinguish between what's real, what's an illusion, and what's murder.
While on my way I figured it would be best if I drove at my vehicle's top speed. This way I would not only get to my destination as fast as possible, but I would also be obeying some sort of speed limit. Then, just as I reached the half-way mark of my trip, the unthinkable happened; I was pulled over for speeding. I tried telling the cop I was a magician and everything he had just witnessed was an illusion, but he didn't buy it.
As I pulled back onto the street I drove with caution until I was around the corner. After that it was pedal to the medal as I skidded around corners, took shortcuts through private property, and crashed into a tree.
Needless to say, if I was going to make my appointment I'd be doing it on foot. I blindly sprinted across side streets and fearlessly bound over fences with a new sense of determination. Little Jimmy wasn't going to be let down on his birthday. Not on my watch.
After some small tussles with a couple of German Sheppard's, a chain-link fence, and a jeep, I finally arrived at my destination. I may have been missing my top hat, most of my props, and my shirt, but I was still ready to put on a magic act no one would soon forget. Looking at my watch, I realized I was a little late. All the more reason to give my clients the best show of their lives.
As I stared at the front door I tried to think of a spectacular entrance, something that would start things off with a bang. I could knock on their door and ask if they ordered a pizza. Then, when they said no I could respond, "How about a magician!" as I magically pulled a rabbit, dove, and Basset Hound out of my pocket. Or I could simply do a normal entrance and save all the tricks for the show. It was a tough call, but in the end I decided to go around back and break in through the window for that element of surprise.
It was very dark upon entering the house, but by the way I kept knocking over glasses and breaking dishes, I assumed I was on the kitchen counter. Then, just as my eyes began to adjust, the light switch was suddenly flipped on. Squinting over at the far entrance of the room I saw little Jimmy's parents standing in shock as a half naked man rummaged around in their sink. My plan worked to a tee. I had already rendered my clients speechless and I had yet to perform a single trick.
I jumped off the counter and continued to mystify by pulling their tablecloth out from under a set of dishes. Once that didn't work I went right into creating the illusion that I was levitating by swinging upside down from the chandelier. Then, after the chandelier ripped from the ceiling, I magically broke my fall with my face. I could tell I was knocking this performance out of the park by the way the parents stood frozen in what must have been complete awe. Now, all I had to do was end with something spectacular. I thought of doing a card trick or juggling some apples, but that wasn't good enough. Then it hit me. I grabbed a butcher knife from the counter, looked back at my still speechless couple, and said, "Which one of you wants to get cut in half?"
As little Jimmy dialed 911 from the living room, I had to flee from the house before I had a chance to perform my final act. I was kind of glad he did because I never understood how to cut someone in half without killing them. A large part of being a successful magician is having the ability to distinguish between what's real, what's an illusion, and what's murder.
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