Babysitting Ted

Last night I went to babysit

a little boy named Ted,

and everything went really well

‘til I said, “Time for bed.”

Ted looked at me and shouted, “No!”

and then ran from the room.

I called his name, got no response —

my mood, now one of gloom.

To the kitchen I then went

and there stood little Ted,

holding up a dozen eggs

high above his head!

“Come on, Ted, give me the eggs.”

He lowered them right then,

and from the carton, took an egg

and clucked just like a hen.

He said, “I’m going to throw these eggs

unless I get to play.

There’s no way that I’m going to bed,

so now what do you say?”

What would you say had you been me?

I’d never felt so cross!

All I knew is that I must

continue to be boss.

“I give up, Ted. I’m going home.

Just tell your folks — I quit!”

You should have seen his little face

as I put on my mitt.

He started crying really hard —

t’was music to my ears!

He put the carton in the fridge;

and couldn’t control his tears.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll go to bed.

Don’t leave me all alone.”

I looked at him a long, long time —

he gave a little moan.

“Okay,” I said, “but not a peep,

so off you go to bed.”

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll go to sleep”,

and to his room did head.

Thinking Ted would throw those eggs

was honestly quite tough,

and I’m just grateful Ted’s so young

he couldn’t detect my bluff!