Dessie's kids

In my last post, I remarked that Dessie's friends are now my friends too as a result of hanging out once at a party. If only kids were that simple!

Dessie's kids are great. And they're my friends too. But you can't substitute the word "kids" for "friends" in a sentence about making her friends mine. It doesn't work that way.

Her kids are still very much attached to their father, who sees them almost every day and likes to keep tabs on what they're doing in between their sleepovers at his place and their impromptu phone calls to him just to say hi and then go silent. So yeah, he's still involved.

In their lives, that is. Well, by extenstion, in Dessie's life too. I don't mind that. In fact, I just suggested to her that they should all go to my gig this Thursday night. Her, him, and their three kids. OK, so part of that reason was so I could use her car.

But no, I haven't met the guy yet. He knows I'm a musician, and he plays guitar. Heck, he's been sharing that with his son, whose playing is a level above that of the average 11-year-old. So I figure, what better venue to present myself to him than when I'm doing my best work? And, in case I make a bad impression on the guy (or if I already have by dating his wife), there will be 100 or more witnesses to save me.

Point is, I'm glad to be involved in these kids' lives. And they're his, not mine.

But I had the opportunity to play Mr. Mom to them last night when I was over and Dessie was overly tired after dinner. I suggested she go to bed and I would take care of the kids and get them to bed when it was time. She was so sleepy that she had little reason to turn down the offer. I'm so glad I could lend a hand to her. What would she have done otherwise? No need to think about it.

So I got them to put on their PJs and brush their teeth. They helped me clean up the living room, which was something their mom wanted done. Then I got them to turn in. Two slept in their mom's bed with her, and one cuddled with me on the couch until we were both asleep. Overnight, I helped move two sleeping girls into their beds.

I'm not a parent, but I'm an involved adult. I realize that makes me nothing more than a babysitter. But I love these kids, and that's what makes the difference.