You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch. With a nauseous, super noss.

This is a brief addendum to my blog from earlier today.  I was babysitting tonight for a 3 and a half year old whose parents are friends of my mom's friend.  In any case, it was a little before 8 and I was tired of watching Nick Jr., so I figured a totally acceptable solution to this problem would be to check the channel guide and see if there was some Christmasy program.  And lo and behold, as you may have guess, I found my favorite Christmas special:  How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  And not that crap with Jim Cary in it.  The old school Boris Karloff narrated version.  With singing and Cindy-Lou Who (who was no more than two).  Although it was great to watch it with a kid (who was totally familiar with the story.  Good work Montessori school down the street!), I'm 98.75% sure I enjoyed it more than him.  I'm mostly basing this on the fact that when I was singing "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" he told me to not sing.  I wish I could say I obliged.  But I can't say that, because that would be lying.