A chilly, but nonetheless bright, Saturday afternoon; inside the living room of a small yellow home, residing in a pleasant vicinity that some would call a retirement neighborhood.

"Over the bridge and …under the bunny hole and… through the gate to eat the lettuce, and…and… around?" She quietly talked herself through the steps of shoe-tying before throwing the shoe across the room in frustration, nearly hitting me as I walked out of the kitchen. I dried my wet hands on the front of my jeans, as I had just finished washing the lunch dishes.

"Would you like some help?" I asked, picking up the tiny shoe and walking over to where Olivia, a girl of five years old, was sitting on the floor, with her arms crossed, brows knitted, and an angry frown plastered on her normally agreeable face.

"No." She replied sternly. "I don't need sneakers. I'm going to wear flip-flops. After all, I'm almost six." Knowing I was going to object, she quickly continued before I had the chance. "And almost sixes do not wear sneakers."

"Oh?" I asked, as she started marching toward her bedroom to uncover the flip-flops that were buried somewhere under all her toys. She gave a sharp nod of her head in reply, and continued marching. "But look how pretty these sneakers are!" I exclaimed. "They're so white and clean and they've even got pretty pink flowers embroidered on the side! It's a shame you don't want to wear them. Your toes might turn into ice cubes if you wear your flip-flops."

She pondered this for a moment, before turning on her heel and walking back over to me with her hands on her hips. "I forgot to mention that almost sixes never ever have frozen toes."

"Sit down on the couch, and I'll help you tie your sneakers. Give me your foot." I said; inclining my head towards her left foot.

"Clementine." She corrected. "That's Clementine."

"What?" I questioned, with a look of puzzlement on my face.

"Clementine" she pointed to her left foot "And Calvin" she pointed to her right foot. I must have looked quite dumbfounded then, because she repeated, rather forcefully: "Clementine" she jabbed her finger toward her left foot, "And Calvin." I could tell she was getting a bit annoyed with me, but she had apparently emphasized strongly enough for me to finally realize what she was trying to tell me, because all of a sudden, it clicked.

"You… you named your feet?"

"Yes, silly." She answered in her best You-should-have-know-exactly-what-I-was-talking-about voice.

"Oh." A flicker of amusement crossed my face. "Are you ready to go to the playground now?" I queried, after I had finished helping her tie her shoes.

"Well… not quite." She pranced over to her My Little Pony princess box, lifted the lid, and removed a plastic jeweled crown, pink clip on earrings, bracelets of all different colors and shapes, a chunky, plastic beaded necklace, and a lilac colored feather boa. First, she clipped on the earrings (with some added assistance from me), she placed the bracelets neatly on her wrists (there were so many, they almost reached her elbow), put the necklace around her neck, lifted the crown on her head, and draped the feather boa about her shoulders. She then skipped to the bathroom, climbed up on the cream colored porcelain toilet seat, and admired herself in the mirror.

"Oh, I almost forgot." She clumsily jumped down from the closed toilet seat, and ran to her room, returning moments later with a pair of lemon yellow star shaped sunglasses. She placed them over her eyes, congratulated herself on looking fabulous, grasped my hand, and proceeded to tug me out the door.

"Are you sure you need all of that?" I questioned as we walked down the street, hand in hand.

"Of course. I'm almost six."

"Well, I can't argue with that." She flashed me a smile as we walked towards the park, silhouetting a not so typical kid and her babysitter on a Saturday afternoon.

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A/N: (This is for Mia. I love you, and you'll always be like a little sister to me!) I haven't written any short stories in a while, but I've had this idea floating around in my head, and I decided to put it on paper. This is based off of an unusual/cute babysitting experience I've had, and I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. I might add onto it, or I might write some other short stories based on babysitting experiences and add it to this. Not too sure yet, but I'll figure it out eventually. I might rewrite this later if I decide I'm not as happy with it as I thought. I'd love your input on it, and any suggestions you can give me. As always, reviews are returned.

-xDancingintheRainx