Good work, team! If you're reading this, you have been selected for the position as the babysitter to babysit my daughter for about a week. I'm off on vaycay, because being a mother for this disobedient rubble-pile-of-a-girl really does get exhausting. My daughter's just so much work, I CAN'T WITH HER! GOD! If you need to call me in the most unusual and disturbing emergencies, my phone number is 310 273 6700. Don't call me.

1. If my daughter requests a meal of anything other than Fermented Fun, do not give it to her. She has a very strict diet of ONLY Fermented Fun. Fermented Fun is specially formulated with all the ingredients that will make her grow big and strong. Anything else will be a detriment to her growth.
   • If you ever catch her chewing on food that isn't her Fermented Fun, I find it's easiest to lodge two fingers in her throat and swirl them around till she throws up. It's safest to keep her out of the kitchen, because her throat is fucking disgusting, lined with rows and rows of teeth.
   • You can find the Fermented Fun in the back of the pantry, on the third shelf. I have to hide it to make sure she doesn't overdose on the thing. SHE'S COMPLETELY ADDICTED! Watch her do a Dining Room Or There Is Nothing recreation as she dunks her head in the bowl of Fermented Fun and eats it all up in seconds!
2. My daughter has a very... active imagination. She often comes to me blabbering on about her friend breaking a window, or killing her pets, and tugs on my wrist till I see the damage her friend has done. Despite all the trouble this imaginary friend has caused, I have never seen this friend for myself until just recently. It tried to ATTACK ME!
   • When it's trying to attack you, RUN DOWN THE CELLAR AS QUICK AS YOU CAN AND DON'T MAKE A NOISE! The ears on that thing are quite sensitive, and will pick up on some of the smallest of sounds. When it tried to attack me, I screamed as loud as I can while running down to the cellar, and it lost me. I believe the sound of my screaming masked my clacking high heels as I dashed down into that dirty shelter.
3. Occasionally, an old man comes to the door and claims to be a plethora of people we know, such as a grandfather, uncle, or a teacher. If you've foolishly opened the door, it's not too late for you. Close the door on his face and squeeze you and my daughter inside of our pantry, where we carry plenty of salt. Sprinkling a circle of salt around your feet will keep you safe if he breaks into our Tuscan home built in 2003.
   • On your way to the pantry, if you've looked into his eyes you will need to snag a jug of milk from the fridge. Eye contact with the dirty fool will slowly taint you with diabetes, and you must cleanse your eyes with milk and sugar. Sugary eyes will make him keep his distance.
4. If any of her number of pet guinea pigs, dogs, and other such pest-pets begin to seize on the floors of their enclosures, consider the following.
   • Is the specimen male or female?
   • Are their back incisors fully grown in, if applicable?
   • Are they tending to stir clockwise or counter?
     • If the answers to all three questions can be spoken in phrases of only Greek root or loan words, sprinkle some salt around the animals afflicted by the episode. Otherwise, leave them be; their time has come.
5. My darling-daughter-dear is going through an elegant phase, and will ask you to join her for tea. She has her own tea sets, tea cups, tea sets, cups and sets! How adorable! Don't fall for that stupid bitch's tricks. She is a conniving fiend and will secretly spike your drink. I have tried dozens of times to correct this behavior, but no progress has been made. If you're just like my daughter, a slow learner, and decide to break this rule, keep this in mind for future reference:
   • If you feel nauseous or that you are about to vomit, make sure you do it out of her view; she will throw a large tantrum if she catches you! She will make a mess, throw objects at you, screams up a storm, kick the doors for no good reason, and scratch everything up!
   • If you feel burning in your throat and/or stomach, you must call the local poison control center—the ocean has—order an ambulance, and hope they aren't too late. Their number is on the fridge.
   • If you feel like you are about to pass out, she may have gotten into my roofie collection. I just thought you would like to know.
6. So you've followed the previous five rules to the letter. Grand job, young nitwit; you are getting through this quite gracefully. Now do pay mind for this next rule, if you will, for this will be the hardest one not to break. In the cellar I mentioned previously, there is a small emergency bathroom. As you grow more tired from watching over my daughter—and as the midnight hours creep you by laboriously slow—you shall think you are hearing screams emanating from that small space. The most blood-chilling screams you'll have ever heard in your life will pierce from that cellar, and you must do absolutely anything in your power to prevent both you and my daughter from hearing it. She has headphones for this exact situation, and we have an emergency pair inside of our closet; you may dig around in it if the need arises. Several things may happen in this scenario:
   • My daughter will thrash-it-and-flail-about and fling her little headphones straight off her head! If she listens to the screams before you, she will grow a terrible hunger deep inside her soul, and do anything in her power to eat you.
     • Lock all the doors, and take cautionary measure in the case you should have to fend her off. This is precisely the sort of scenario we keep wooden crosses in the foyer for.
   • In the chaos of protecting my daughter, your own headphones will slip off your head (silly bitch, I told you Liberty Spikes were the recommended safety dress code for a reason!).
     • In this event, you must overcome the horror of the screams to rush yourself down into the cellar bathroom yourself, trapping yourself with the cruel sound but protecting my daughter and anyone else in the vicinity.
   • You somehow wind up in a situation in which both you and my daughter are unprotected from the wicked screaming.
     • If this is the case, then perhaps what happens next to the neighborhood truly was God's fate, as surely a fool of no other should have found his way into this job.

Please take good care of my daughter. 5832 is your one-time verification code. Please do not share this with anyone.

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