On Saturday last week, my mom and I babysat for the excellent Bob, or Toddlin' Bob, as I call him (progressing from "Baby Bobby.") He is the two-year-old son of a family friend, which is sort of an awkward and misleading term that doesn't catch any of the sense of "she baby-sat me when I was in early elementary school and I was super disappointed when I got old enough to hang out by myself in the house; worked in the clinic for my dad for five or ten years or something like that; twenty years of shared history and love and I am happy every time I see her." I don't even like "surrogate sister," because sisterhood's not really in my experience, you know? And from my mom's description of her childhood, sisterhood involves all this fighting and crap that doesn't really play in here.
