I'd like to talk about an afternoon last summer when I volunteered to babysit my six-year-old nephew, Leo. My sister and her husband had to attend an urgent family commitment in another town, so they asked if I could hold the fort for about five or six hours at their flat.
To be honest, I completely underestimated how much energy a six-year-old can have. Leo is an absolute bundle of energy at the best of times, but that day he seemed particularly restless. As soon as his parents left, we started building an elaborate den out of sofa cushions and bedsheets in the living room. Once he got bored of that, which took all of twenty minutes, he insisted on going to the local park. We spent over an hour kicking a football around and playing tag on the grass. Even when it started to drizzle slightly, he simply refused to slow down.
By late afternoon, I was desperate to find some low-energy activities, so we baked some simple chocolate cupcakes in the kitchen. Naturally, that turned into a bit of a chaotic mess with flour all over the counter, but it did manage to hold his attention for a while.
By the time my sister finally returned around seven in the evening, I was utterly wiped out. I felt a tremendous sense of relief, but also a new-found respect for full-time parents. It was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon and we bonded quite a bit, but running around after someone with boundless enthusiasm was genuinely exhausting.