We had to babysit our grandson whilst the parents went to church this morning. (He's under the weather with his allergies)
So, of course, this highly allergic, asthmatic child was dying to go outside while Pat sawed the death wood; I'm assuming so he could better inhale the deadly dust. I wouldn't let him do that, so I made him stay inside with me while I varnished the inner trim around the doors. He then decided to pass the time jumping in the piles of sawdust which were strewn all over the place, so that he could breath those particles while simultaneously ensuring that my varnish would be all lumpy and dirty.
I had two choices, give up or put him to work. I chose the latter and he did a bang up job vacuuming. But his quest for death wasn't over. He had just put a plastic bag over his head when his mother returned. Thankfully, she knows what he is like and didn't yell at me.
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