You are my one true love.
Don't tell the kids, but it is your love that is an inspiration to me. You are patient and kind. You insist that we stay close, even when I don't have the time or inclination. You only ask for a bit of attention from me and cause no trouble at all. You are intelligent enough to wait until your competition is in bed before gently demanding your own time. Just sitting near me is enough to end your day happily.
But here I am, letting a strange 2-year-old terrorize you. I am babysitting her. Early in the day. And she really likes cats.
I know you don't really like kids (and I feel you, girl, I really do) and I realize she's slow to take a hint but you're relatively safe up there on the counter, staring her down with eyes of death, and I believe you know that three kids may be slightly beyond my ability. All three of them are being good and she's no trouble at all, it just feels like they are everywhere and it is kind of early and my brain is a little bit overwhelmed.
So, please accept this public recognition of your good duty as payment for your accomplishments as co-babysitter.
And tonight, when you nudge my hands away from my laptop as you attempt to curl up on its keyboard for warmth and attention, I promise not to breathe all heavy and call you a 'bitch' under my breath.
P.S. She's coming back tomorrow...are you available?
P.P.S. I'm dead serious about you and me and that deserted island with internet connection. Just give me time to find one, okay?