I'm so fortunate to have great parents and in-laws that will watch my three little monsters at the drop of a hat. They make it possible for hubby and me to work full-time so that we can keep fresh mac and cheese, Doritos, and plenty of Pepsi on the table. Yes, I am a gourmet chef and my kids' chunky little cheeks and flabby little thighs scream nutrition at it's finest.

On occasion, I have the rare event that pops up and I need a babysitter beyond the hours that grandma or grandpa can cover. When this occurs, I have an extremely trustworthy young lady that happily watches the kids and plays Barbie’s, monster trucks, and dress-up until I get home and they're once again neglected (KIDDING!). Unfortunately, my back-up sitter wasn't available for a date and I was forced to tackle the issue of finding another live body. This is where Uncle R comes in.

Ring, ring!
Uncle R: Hello?
Mommazilla: Hey there buddy! How's it going? (syrupy sweet voice, oozing love)
Uncle R: Fine...? (instant distrust ensues)
Mommazilla: Great, great. So listen, what are you doing tomorrow?
Uncle R: Uh (catching on that I'm going to ask for a favor), going to Eureka.
Mommazilla: Cool! What time?
Uncle R: I'm not sure, why?
Mommazilla: Oh, I'm just looking for a little favor....(mumbles) watching the kids for a coupla hours.
Uncle R: I just remembered that I'm also working out tomorrow and then I have to go to Eureka. (panicking)
Mommazilla: So, what time? You tell me first. You're not getting out of this one.
Uncle R: Maybe 1ish to 5ish, but probably later. I'm a busy guy you know.
Mommazilla: Yeah right, busy. I'll see you here at 3PM. I only need you for two hours. As long as your breathing and you have a pulse, you're qualified to watch the kiddos. Throw them some frozen bacon and an unopened Pepsi two liter; it will keep them busy for hours.
I can hear him breathing on the phone. Quick, raspy sounds are emanating from his throat and I hear him gulp.
Uncle R: I can't do it. Your kids scare me. Gun-Gun is the devil incarnate and I know that he'll hurt me.
Mommazilla: Your just exaggerating things! He's just a sweet, active little boy.

Gun-Gun is shrieking by this point, as I quickly try to muffle his war cries with my hands. He then proceeds to scream into the phone about cars and "Bob Bob!" (Sponge Bob) as I remove him from the entertainment center he is attempting to high dive from. Mild profanities ensue and I'm informed that I owe the quarter jar big bucks, by a concerned C-Dub who is proclaiming that there is a big unknown wet spot on the kitchen floor (don't worry Mom, it don't smell like pee!). The dogs, hearing the ruckus, begin to bark and Chico the goat starts tapping at the door with his one horn. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the rooster peeking in the window, intrigued at our strange family. I forget that Uncle R is still on the phone listening to the organized chaos.

Mommazilla: So it's a "no" then?
Uncle R: You have to ask?

Needless to say, I had to cancel my meeting.