I babysit for one of our church friends family. It was extremely hectic the last time I was there. Four kids, three girls, one boy, age ranging, girl: nine, girl: eight, boy: seven, girl; five, all live in the country

The day started as every other day when I'm baby sitting. Mom tells me that I'm going to watch the kids five minutes before I have to leave. Usually it's okay, but what she didn't tell me was that I was also dog sitting.

Now, I usually love dogs, but this specific dog is a super, crazily, hectic, caffeinated-on-high, psycho path dog. And the first thing he does on you is jump. Honestly, I was being dog-jumped for the first half hour I was there. So, while the dog is jumping up on me, the kids are running around screaming and literally tearing out each others hair, I'm trying to calm them down while dealing with a jacked-up dog who doesn't understand the concept of the word down. I finally get them to play a game with me, slapping their hands as hard as I can and seeing if I can tell what shape there thinking of.

Then the other dog comes.

Their neighbors lost their golden retriever a few weeks ago, and here it is, strolling up the driveway without a care in the world. And then ZOOM! all the kids are outside petting the dog, while I'm trying to haul them away, because I don't know if the dog was going to bite or attack them or anything. So I'm telling them to all stay back, no one's listening, and I finally get a leash on the golden. 

I forgot about the crazy psycho path dog.

He's barking his head off at the window, scraping at the screen and glass. I send one of the kids in to lock him in the bathroom, but she says he'll get scared. So I send in another kid to lock the dog in the bathroom. She complies.

All four kids and I start out for the quarter mile walk to return the dog, one of the kids 'forgot' the phone number. I'm leading the dog, who balks, pulls, and yanks at the leash for the full walk. When we finally get to the house, my voice is partly hoarse from yelling at the kids to stay together, don't go in the middle of the road, car, get back here, and to far ahead, we find out that the dog is not the neighbors. But they kindly offered to take the dog where he belonged.

I greatfully thanked them.

The neighbors own horses, and the oldest is obsess with them. So while we're walking down the extremely long driveway, she is in the weeds, trying to get the horses to come to her. When I finally pull her away, the sky is a threatening grey color. I try to hurry the kids home as fast as I can, and while keeping them from the middle of the road, picking up garbage, stomping in the weeds, splashing in puddles, pulling out each others hair, and calling names. Then the heavens open in a glorious thunder storm.

I take that back. It was not glorious at all.

The kids and I, still being a long way from home, all bolt towards the house. But, kids being kids, they have to stop and play in the rain. Fifteen minutes later, all four soaking wet children and one soaking wet baby sitter were finally in the house.

While I'm getting dinner, the wind picks up and blows over their stone glass table outside,shattering it. The oldest tries to run out there, but it starts hailing large grape-sized pieces of ice(Honestly, not making this up) while glass is spread all over the deck.

I yell at her to get back in here, and she finally agrees to wait till the storm is over. When it's done, I go outside, and ever so gently, pick up the glass, slicing my hand when the oldest comes up behind me and shouts my name.

After the glass is picked up, the table put back together, and my hand bandaged, the phone rings. I answer it, and finding out it was the Mrs. I inform her of what happened. While trying to keep four kids out of ice cream and pop, I measure the table with a broken tape measurer that took me seventeen minutes to find.

After she hung up, I send the kids down to pick out a movie, and not three seconds later I hear them banging around, screaming and punching each other.

After breaking up the fights, I play The Curse of Cactus Jack and go upstairs to clean. Coming back down ten minutes later, the kids are sleeping. They sleep through the whole movie till it was time for bed, then they where WIDE AWAKE. And I'm not just talking about eyes open, they were dancing around, bouncing off walls, spreading toothpaste all over the counters, everything.

When I finally chained them in bed, tucking them in, reading them a story, running back and forth for cups of water, turning out the lights, one had to use the restroom.

No doubt from all the water he was drinking.

Now, being a seven-year-old, you are in the bathroom for about half an hour, pulling down your pants. It take another three hours to get on the toilet, and I still have no clue what they do to that poor thing. All I know is that when that child came out, I had to go in there, spray everything down twice, empty two cans of Febreeze in there, and light a candle, which promptly exploded from all the gas.

Now kids are in seemingly bed, it's ten thirty, and the Mr. and Mrs. come home. They ask me how things went, I lied and said swell, wanting to keep my job, and Mr. drove me home.

Dragging my feet into my house, I collapsed on the couch, to tired to even take my shoes off. Mom comes by and pats me on the head. "How was it?" She asked, taking one look at the dark rings under my eyes and the bald patches on my scalp.

"Fine," I muttered, burying my face  into the pillow. "I am never going back there again."

"Good. You're doing it again tomorrow night."