“It's just for an hour” were my sister's words to me that Friday afternoon, as I sat in my pink cubicle covered with photos, blowing up balloons for the boss's upcoming birthday.   I had worked too many hours that week, and as punishment they were ‘making' me leave early.   I had big plans, plans of going home, putting on my favorite pink pajamas and laying in bed with an overdose of cold medicine at my disposal.  

My sister was going out with the girls that evening for cocktails at the comedy club.   I had respectfully declined her invitation earlier in the week, as punishment for bad behavior on my last cocktail outing.   She had called me that afternoon out of desperation, her husband was working late, could I please come over and watch her 2 daughters until he got home.   She wouldn't normally ask but, she didn't have anyone else to call….

And this is how I ended up stranded in traffic, day number 7 of pouring rain beating against the hood of my new car.   I was cold, I was sniffling and sneezing, I ached and just wanted to go to bed.   Delaney was 5 years old, and an absolute sweetheart.   She loved everything about me, right down to our matching hair and eyes.   She did everything to please me, and never passed up an opportunity to snuggle.  Abigale was 2, and was the epitome of the terrible two stage.   She never wanted to snuggle or even speak to me; despite every effort I made each visit to prove how much I loved her.   If I kissed the top of her head, she would give me a dirty look and viciously wipe that spot, as if brushing the kiss away.   Despite this fact, I loved to visit them, knowing that at least Delaney would be happy to see me, so I had forsaken dreams of pajamas and warm blankets to spend the early evening hours babysitting.

The night started out like any other Friday night while babysitting.   Delaney was watching cartoons while waiting for her pizza to cool off (she only liked it cold).   Abigale, who had eaten her pizza and moved on to crackers she sneaked out of the cabinet, was wandering around wearing a pair of shorts belonging to a baby my sister had in her daycare, and a pair of winter clogs complete with fur lining with the box of crackers in her hand.   Her always-curly hair lay every which way on her little head, her big belly sticking out for all the world to see, and I sat perched at the laptop looking for something interesting to catch my eye.  

The miracle of the evening was when Abigale, who normally was quite content to forget I was there or pretend I was a stranger, walked up to my seat and gently crawled into my lap.   She sat snuggled against me, her head leaning on my chest, still with the box of crackers, watching everything I did.   She giggled as I used my favorite search engine to look up pictures of Cinderella's Castle, magical fairies and, since she shared my passion for shoes, Manolo Blahnik's on sale at Neiman Marcus.   She smiled when I would kiss her bare shoulder and hugged her, and when I said ‘I love you Abigale' she replied simply and warmly with ‘I love you too'.  

When her father came home she went right back to throwing tantrums and antagonizing her older sister, and all of the normal things that two-year olds will do, but I will always remember that for a few minutes she was different, she was a sweet and loving baby and she wanted to be near me.