I often watched kids at the pool while their mothers rested in the shade. They were always angels. "Hey," I begged Mom. "How different can it be?" I was thrilled when she agreed to let me do it.

I arrived at the house at exactly 6:00 P.M. and rang the doorbell. A lady, who looked to be in her thirties, answered and introduced herself as Mrs. Gregory. Then she called her son. "This is Brian," she said. "He shouldn't be much trouble."

Mrs. Gregory told me Brian's bedtime and when she would return. Then she showed me around the house. When we walked into the kitchen, I noticed a menu on the refrigerator. Breakfast and lunch were crossed out. Tonight's dinner caught my attention.

Mrs. Gregory seemed to know what I was staring at because she said, "The casserole is really easy to make, but if Brian doesn't want it you can make something else."

Brian was a great kid. He did what I told him. This was even easier than I thought. We played games and I showed him how to make a picture out of macaroni noodles that I had brought with me. Afterwards, while he was watching Dumbo, I started dinner. I measured everything exactly right. As I was putting it into the oven, Brian came up beside me.

"Eww! What's that?" he groaned as he cringed.

"It's dinner," I said cheerfully.

"Well I don't want it," he croaked.

"But you haven't even tried it," I said calmly, even though I was hurt.

"It looks yucky. I won't eat it!"

I sighed. I had spent so long making it that it bothered me that he wouldn't eat it, but I looked in the fridge and found some eggs. I got a frying pan and turned on the stove.

"Gwoss," he said. "I don't like eggs."

Now wait a minute, I thought to myself trying to hold back my frustration. I'm working hard here. Why is he giving me all this grief? I checked the cupboards. They were empty except for some mothballs and a loaf of bread. That would be a good combination to feed the little vermin. I tried to hold back my grin.

Next I checked the basement. Aha! I've beaten the little sucker this time! No kid could refuse Chef Boy-ar-dee. I pulled out a can of spaghetti and meatballs. I plopped it into a pan and put it on the stove. Then I heard that annoying voice that almost drove me insane.

"Yucky, What's that? I don't like passgetti!"

I was trying to be as god at this baby-sitting thing as I could, but right then I lost it. "It's not passgetti," I croaked. "It's frog eyes and raven remains," I added coldly.

Just then his eyes opened wide. "Really!" He practically whispered.

Seeing that I had caught his interest, I smiled. "Yessss," I said. I was happy now–I was in charge again! "And if you don't eat it quick, the vultures will come and get it."

He practically leaped through the kitchen and plopped into his chair. I chuckled to myself as he waited impatiently at the table.

Soon he was eating and asking for more. I was very proud of myself for getting him to eat, but after two platefuls, it was bedtime. He happily went up the stairs to get into his PJ's.

I had just finished cleaning up when Mrs. Gregory came in. She looked around and smiled. "Great job!"

Before I could say anything, Brian came running down the stairs shouting "Mommy, guess what! We ate fwog eyes and waven 'mains."

I burst out laughing. Mrs. Gregory looked at me funny, but then began to grin. She paid me and offered me a ride home. I gladly accepted.

Three days later, she called for me again. When I got there, she explained everything like before. After she left, I looked at the menu on the refrigerator. Like before, breakfast and lunch were crossed out, but it was dinner that caught my attention. Just below it read, "frog eyes and raven remains."