Baby-Sitting On A Time Bomb

, , , , | Related | July 29, 2015

(My mother is in town visiting my sister and me. My sister has a three-month-old boy, and while I love my nephew I have no plans to ever have children of my own. I am also the only person in my family who doesn’t use marijuana. This happens after I’ve gotten off my night shift and am spending “quality time” with my family.)

Sister: “Here, have some cookies.”

Me: *barely awake* “Thanks. Hey, these cookies don’t have weed in them, do they?”

Sister: “Nope!”


Sister: “Okay,[Boyfriend] and I are going to the store. You guys stay here.”

(She leaves with her boyfriend. As soon as she’s gone, my mother darts outside, pulling my brother after her.)

Me: *alarmed* “Wait, where are you going?”

Mom: “Oh, don’t worry; this will be good for you!”

(She leaves, and two things penetrate my sleep-fogged mind: 1) my sister lied about the cookies, and 2) I am alone with the baby. I start to panic a little. I can’t find my cell phone, and there are no clocks, so I set the microwave timer for 15 minutes and reset it every time it beeps. I march around the house to stay conscious, stopping periodically to make sure my nephew is still breathing. After at least 45 minutes, my sister returns.)

Sister: “Hello, feeling good yet? Wait, where’s Mom?”

Me: “…your baby’s still alive. I need to lie down and then I want to go home.”

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