Who knew that the father of the chunky three year old you babysat was an Austrian Colonel, who was built like a refrigerator, but was sickeningly sweet for no reason at all.

Who knew that this stopped being a babysitting gig the minute Daisy started calling you "Mutter" in that cute little accent.

Who knew that he would eventually switch you out with a new babysitter, not because he didn't like you, but because he did, and he wanted you for himself.

Who knew that you'd be here, getting ready to hang out at his house, not to watch his kid, but to just stay over.