Babysitting I spent last Saturday night at the apartment – dinner, drinks, playing jump rope with a fur boa.  My roommate Jenafir (not to be confused with Jennifer or anyone that abides by conventions of name-spelling) was entertaining a guest named Hanna.  She was quite the conversationalist for a five-year old.  Decidedly more outspoken than myself, Hanna was in charge of me for the evening.  I envied Hanna’s confidence as she ordered her juice, “Mango-orange please, but NO ICE.”  Personally, I enjoy ice in my beverages but never think to mention it.  When we made cupcakes she designated herself in charge of decorating.  Now, I like decorating pastries too, but I sat politely as Hanna overloaded cupcakes with sprinkles and haphazardly poked them with plastic cowgirls.  I was disappointed, but reassured by my superior frosting skills.  During dinner, Hanna requested specific stories about animals in the desert.  I tired of this after some time and began talking to the grownup guest, Bree, when Hanna interjected, “Excuse me.  Excuse me!”  Everyone stopped talking.  “Jenafir, you didn’t finish telling me about the desert animals.”  Jenafir laffed and agreed to this, but explained that Brie and I would continue our conversation if that was okay.  Hanna told us that it was not okay due to the volume of noise created by competing conversations.  She had a point, so I listened quietly and only spoke when spoken to.  Hanna entertained herself for the rest of the evening by harassing the cat and me.  Both Minna and I allowed the child to push us around and place silly things on our heads.  I’m not proud that a five-year old ordered me to dance and invented a game that involved her rubbing her bare feet on my face, but I didn’t complain.  She was a guest, after all. By midnight, Hanna showed no signs of fatigue, fueled, no doubt, by sugar and sheer power.  I saw an opportunity and slipped quietly into my bedroom.  When I awoke in the morning I found a different, wiser Hanna.  Though only hours had passed since I last saw her, she had changed during my slumber.  In addition to coloring with crayons and watching cartoons, Hanna also received an impromptu lesson on death.  Jenafir taught little Hanna something that Monsters, Inc could not; she taught her that sometimes, the only way to put an injured rat out of misery is to crush its skull with a rock.