A hefty price

Mark’s dad got married last weekend. My older sister, Krista, accepted my plea to keep Sage and Eliza (bless her), since we would be driving twenty-four hours over three days.

I tried to think of some form of compensation that would be worth her efforts. We tried offering payment or hockey tickets or future babysitting for her little angel baby. She graciously refused everything, except some oreo truffles I made before leaving.

Mark and I had a great time. We felt like newlyweds on the car trip—with a sleeping newborn in the backseat and plenty of time to not listen to episodes of Dora the Explorer, dole out snacks and sippy cups, or pull over for another poopy diaper change. We only stopped when Lily’s tummy or the gas tank were nearing empty, and we made it to our destination within a half hour of Mapquest’s prediction. Amazing! It was such a successful trip we began making plans to leave the kids with Krista regularly, like every other weekend or so. (ha ha)

It wasn’t until the day after our trip, though, that I came to recognize the price I paid for Krista’s services.

First, I’ve lost my power to control Sage’s hairdos. Since Krista gave her an old white plastic headband, Sage wants nothing else in her hair. I guess I deserve this, since my own hair obsessions as a child are somewhat infamous.

Second, I’ve lost my right to privacy. Krista reported that one day when she came out of the shower wrapped in a towel, Sage informed her that I usually wear a towel on my head and nothing on my body. Thank you so much, Sage.

And, for the record, I have only done this twice in my life. Clearly it made an unfortunate impression. On Sage and Krista--who laughed her head off as she recounted Sage’s pronouncement. (Sorry for any mental pictures. I told you--no privacy.)

Third, I’ve given up my chance at sanity. Krista regifted a SpongeBob talking Valentine to Sage and Eliza. Naturally it has become their favorite toy, in spite of the inscription clearly stating that it was a gift from Grandma Robins to Krista. Every time they open it (which was about 15 times a minute during my attempted naptime today), it blares out cheerfully, “Happy Valentines Day, Bikini Bottom.”

Now I know nothing about Sponge Bob other than that he apparently has a friend named Bikini Bottom (which is actually a starfish wearing shorts??). Obviously my girls know as little as I, because Sage walked around the house today chanting “Happy Valentines Day Bikini Bottle” and Eliza started her own chorus of “Happy Valentines Day Akini A bottom.”

Fourth, I’ve given up my chance of being the coolest adult in the Wilson family in my girls’ eyes. From trips to the Bean Museum, walks around the block, visits to Bryce’s grandma's toy room, an infinite number of rounds of “Guess Who” and plenty of sugary cereal options in the morning, the truth is, Sage and Eliza were spoiled by Krista and Bryce. And they loved it.

The Pretty Pretty Princesses

Who is that stuffed donkey, you ask?

Can't you tell by his crazed expression that he and all his friends just got their ears pierced by a 4-year-old? Apparently Sage used a bunch of Krista's extra earrings to pierce all the stuffed animals' ears.

As you can see, I am paying a hefty price for Krista’s services. I just hope I can remember to try to muster up the energy to be as great an aunt to my nieces and nephews as Krista and Bryce are to my girls. And I hope that when the time comes, I’ll be able to return the favor. Until then, I’ll be saving (hiding) that SpongeBob card in a very special place.