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As a teen who lived out in the country I was often called upon to baby-sit for the teachers at my school. This was awesome as they usually paid well and I was needed every Saturday night. This took the pressure off me when my friends asked me what I did over the weekend.

All I had to do was tell them I had to baby-sit and they understood. They were cash-poor, too.I agreed to watch these two little boys, ages four and sixteen months. Not too bad... put them to bed at ten, and keep them from making too many messes. That doesn't sound too bad.

What I didn't know was the dad cooked up a plan to have their friends drop their kids off, too. They were of a set piece with the other two... two boys, two years apart. They were hell on wheels.The moms were furious. The dads didn't see the problem... new babysitter, four hyperactive boys under four years of age... she won't know any different. We'll break her in so she won't know the difference and pay her an extra twenty so she'll not be mad. Typical guy move.

Well, the first couple of hours weren't too bad. Only four poopy pants, one almost strangled cat, a tipped over potted plant, they ate all the snacks the first hour, and one fist fight.The second hour involved the two oldest escaping outdoors where they roped a goat and tied him up to the fence and then got tangled up. I made them sit down: "AND DON't YOU MOVE."

Laugh.

DON't YOU DARE MOVE!

Laugh. But not moving.

We got the goat loose as the two youngest wrestled in the sandbox.

Third Hour: The hour of doom. This has fed my nightmares for decades. I seriously considered never having children after this night until I discovered not all children acted this way.

At nine-thirty, which was their bedtime, an evil grin came across the two older ones. The two younger ones were sitting in amusement on the couch, sucking their thumbs. They must have been used to the routine, if they had been older they would have popped some popcorn and settled in for the show. They were probably thinking about it.

The most hyper one grabbed a doorstop that was made to look like a big frog and was filled with pinto beans. He began swinging it around and around and I started to try to take it from him whereupon he ran. Fast.

The other four year old was laughing his little skinny butt off, and did not help. The froggie's leg began coming unstitched. One bean hit the floor.

Then another bean.. tick... tick... tick they fell out one at a time at first, then by the twos and then by the tens... until there

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