The doorbell rang a little while ago. It was Cody from next door, selling raffle tickets and cheesecakes for his Little League team. I didn't want a raffle ticket, of course, but sometime next month he will be delivering (or his mother will be delivering, possibly--she was poking her head into the hall and generally being helpful) a "raspberry swirl" cheesecake with a chocolate cake crust. $18, which is of course more than fair market value, because it's for a good cause. Heidi (the adult) said she wondered why they weren't offering candy instead, and I explained that it's because everybody and his brother is selling candy, you can hardly ride the subway without being offered peanut M&Ms for some stranger's basketball uniform.
A few minutes later, he rang again, and asked if I wanted to pay now. I asked if I could pay later. He didn't know and went to ask his mother. She told him to ask me to look at the form. Having done so, I still didn't know.
I gave up and took my checkbook into her kitchen while she hunted down the appropriate entity to make the check out to (which was mostly a question of whether Inwood Little League is the official name). While I was over there, she asked if she could use us as people to go to in case of trouble, for the (15-year-old) babysitter she's hiring. I started with me pointing out that we won't be home tomorrow, because she started by saying something about the babysitter and tomorrow. For the more general case I've given a conditional okay, with the reminder that I can't handle real emergencies. She assures me the sitter will have the boys' father's cellphone number, and I've said that if she thinks the sitter will find me reassuring, she should introduce us (so the girl won't be ringing a stranger's doorbell in a moment of crisis).
It better be good cheesecake.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}