what price, freedom?

Last night, I sat in on my new church's planning meeting. As usual with new churches, I come for the approach to church and the general theological underpinning, but stay for the community. So, any excuse to spend time with this bunch -- whenever possible, which isn't very often -- is welcomed. (for those who might not know, Lizzy's going to be part of a group baptism/dedication thingie this Sunday at church. So the planning group invited me along to give input.)
All that was lovely. As was the dinner, and the divine margarita(s) served up by the hostess! And the wee precious baby I got to hold for most of the evening... Such a good infant. I'm unused to that.
I got home at about 11. Grandma (not coincidentally, the one who doesn't have knowledge of this blog) was babysitting. I thought, "All right! It's late, and it's a 'school night,' but I think I can muster the energy to plop down and watch the 46 minutes of the House season premiere." Which Matt attempted to tape for me. He's got a better success rate with these things than do I -- imagine my rage one night at having accidentally taped NBC's "So You Want To Be A Hilton," or some such rubbish, instead of Fox's "House" -- where to turn for my weekly Hugh Laurie fix!! -- so I had high hopes. Until I crossed the threshold to see my 2-year-old daughter eagerly hoofing it up the stairs toward me.
WHAT!!!
I try to thank the virtual mother-in-law as best I can, through gritted teeth. Lizzy brightly announces, "I had two lollipops!" I furtively conceal the M-n-Ms package I find on the kitchen counter. I wonder whether my child had anything but refined sugar the entire evening. I note full package(s) of pasta, cooked but uneaten, on the stove.
Maybe it's time to try paying for a babysitter.
And, of course, we paid another kind of price this morning. You'd have thought we asked the Lizzard to eviscerate her favorite stuffed animal, instead of merely requesting shoes on feet. I guess a 2-year-old needs more than just shy of eight hours' sleep. Hm. Who knew.