The Blogger Stories

Chapter Un

September 3 8:45pm
Readers,
So today I babysat for my neighbors across the street. Alice is 5 and an adorable terrorist. Lets just say my idea of a nice, quiet day at home turned into a walk with death. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but this little girl is definitely a brat. She let out and lost her hamster, forcing me to look under dressers and beds while she sat and watched. Even still, everything was fine until get this, she ate.my.cheese.danish.
That is not okay. I'm a nice person but you are crossing the line when you eat my food. So now I'm left here about to watch Downton Abbey with no dessert.
This is not cool.
Bye readers! I'll update you later :)

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How it happened:
I close my eyes as I inhale the sweet smell of the cheese danish that will soon occupy the deep of my stomach.
This is the closest I will get to Le pain au chocolat from Du Pain et des Idées while living in Concord, New Hampshire.
Don't get me wrong, I love being near my family, but no one seems to understand my infatuation with French culture. It's always "Stop dreaming you'll never go to Paris," or "Whats with all the fancy-shmancy french stuff."
I know it seems sort of cliche, but its my dream. I can just imagine sitting in a french café eating a croissant with a cup of expresso while the piano plays in the backround, creating a perfect atmosphere.
"Oops!" I hear breaking me out of my daydream. "Alice, what happened." I say slowly.
"Nothing!" She says following a high pitched shriek. The shrieking continues as I follow the noise. I step into the room and see an open cage on the floor. "Oh no. Alice did you let out
Mr Whiskers?"
"No."
"Really, so how did he escape?"
"Dylan let him out." She replies. The Dylan she's referring to is a 6 month old baby asleep in a crib upstairs.
"Alice, how do you think Dylan got out of his crib from upstairs, came down here, pulled down the cage, and opened the door?"
"Well..."
"Never mind, we have to find
Mr. Whiskers."
That is how I ended up on the floor calling a hamster.
"Mr Whiskers!" We both call as I look underneath the coffee table.
"There he goes!" Alice shouts, pointing to underneath the chair.
I cup my hand and dive towards the chair. The hamsters nails screech across the floor as I chase after it into the dining room.
"Alice come on this side!" I shout. "Let's try to trap him against the wall and then grab him."
"Okay." Alice replies.
We run to the corner and I scoop him up as he squirms in my hand.
"Let's get you back in your cage buddy." I say as I open the door to his cage and shut it.
I am forming in my head how to punish Alice when I hear the sound of smacking coming from the living room.
I go to investigate. Then I come across the scene.

At first glance it looks innocent. A little girl leaning on the couch wearing a princess dress and tiara, while eating a pastry.
Until I look closer at the pastry. More specifically MY pastry.
"Alice! What are you doing?! I shout.
"I'm eating pie." She says.
"Ugh!!! First of all that is a DANISH. Second of all, that is MY danish."
"Oh." She replies.
"Wo-" I stop mid-sentence. There's no use in arguing with a 5 year old.
"Just ask before you eat something next time, okay?"
"Okay." She says with a mouth full of danish.
Being that she really wasn't paying attention, I give up the argument.
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Finally when I'm finished watching Alice and Dylan, I go home, collapse on my bed and turn on the tv just before Downton Abbey comes on.
Given my shortage of Danish snacks, I eat some cheese and crackers while I await for the intro of the show. The theme music plays and I revert into my 1920s mode.

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