I've worked in childcare for far too long. Last night, I dreamt that I was singing an impromptu song about carrots. Yes, even in my dreams I was making up songs to entertain sad-faced two year olds.
This is after I was caught singing about yogurt in our local co-op by the very professional looking lawyer I babysit for. How, exactly, do you explain that? If there had been a child in sight, I could have pretended my song was directed at him, but sadly, there were no children in sight. Just me and my roommates.
I think a good long weekend is just what I need.
