Oh Supergirl, how I love thee.
Imagine this-- you're having a playdate at your house. There are no cries of "She won't let me..." or "I had it first!" or "I want to ____ but she wants to ____!" The house is not trashed. The TV is not on. Oh-- and the younger sibling is included effortlessly.
You are cooking, cleaning, taking a shower, doing laundry, organizing-- maybe even getting some sewing time or reading time or phone time. You hear rousing renditions of kids' songs, you see puzzles being put together, forts being built and tea parties that happen magically and then disappear.
How does it happen, you might ask? Her name is Supergirl. She is 12. She lives down the street from me. The cost of such wonderfulness? $4 an hour. I'm in love.
Supergirl, will you move in with me?
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