Babysitting An Ankle Biter

, , , , , | Related | January 5, 2018

(I am twelve. My parents go away for a weekend together while my older sister watches me at home. Saturday evening she decides that we shouldn’t sit around inside doing nothing and tells me we are going for a walk. My lazy preteen self doesn’t care for that, but I know better than to argue with her and go upstairs to get dressed. On my way back down, I trip, tumble, and end up hitting the first floor hard. It quickly becomes apparent something is wrong with my ankle. My sister helps me get to the couch, where I sit shaking and sniffling with an ice pack on my foot, while she hurriedly gathers our things to take me to urgent care.)

Sister: “You know, if you really didn’t want to go for a walk, you could have just said no!”

(All the way until we saw the doctor and I got a soft brace for my torn ligament, she talked about my “melodrama” to keep me laughing. “Just say no” became a family joke for a while after that.)

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I Don’t Have To (Baby)Sit Through This

, , | Working | August 28, 2017

(I am babysitting a young boy for the first time. His mother has given me specific instructions about what he can and cannot eat, and at what times. He has been asking for a chocolate bar for the past half-hour, but as it is after eight, I say he isn’t allowed. It is close to nine when I hear the front door open.)

Me: “Oh, hello. I thought you were going to be back at one?”

(The mother storms up to me and screams in my face.)

Mother: “HOW DARE YOU TREAT MY BABY LIKE THAT?”

Me: “What? What have I done?”

Mother: *getting even closer and spitting on me* “HE’S BEEN PHONING ME CRYING THAT YOU WOULDN’T GIVE HIM A SINGLE PIECE OF CHOCOLATE. YOU HEARTLESS COW! HOW DARE YOU TREAT MY ANGEL LIKE THAT?”

Me: “But you told me specifically to not give him any after eight!”

(She looks at me, confused, before snarling and moving to smack me, and I brace for contact, but her husband interjects and tells her to go upstairs.)

Mother: *once at the top of the stairs* “YOU CAN THINK AGAIN IF YOU THINK YOU’RE GETTING A SINGLE PENNY OFF OF US, YOU SPITEFUL W****! GET OUT!”

(I’m really shaken, but I quickly gather my things and head for the door. Her husband stops me before I make it out.)

Husband: “I knew this was a bad idea. Every time we go out, [Son] phones us crying, and she thinks she has been too harsh and blames it all on the babysitter. Our parents won’t even look after him now. Look, here you go. I’m sorry for putting you through this.”

(He gave me an envelope and saw me out. It had double what was agreed I be paid. A few days later I told some of my friends who also babysat in the area. They all knew who I was talking about, and each had their own stories. They all called her the Weeping Angel after an alien in Doctor Who.)

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Baby(sits) Well With Me

| Working | July 13, 2015

(I’m interviewing with a couple to babysit their three kids. The wife has been doing all of the talking, while the husband just leans against the counter.)

Wife: *turning to her husband* “Hun, do you have any questions for her?”

Husband: *he is covered in tattoos and seems extremely laid back* “Look, I just want to know that you’re not gonna kill my kids.”

Me: “Well, I don’t have any plans to currently, but you never know. Things can change.”

Husband: *laughs* “I like you.”

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Bambi: Unrated Version

| Right | September 4, 2013

(I am babysitting my eight-year-old neighbor. They have just recently bought a guinea pig, and I am holding him.)

Girl: “My friend Chloe has a pet bunny.”

Me: “Oh really? What’s its name?”

Girl: “Humper.”

Me: “What?!”

Girl: “Yeah, her bunny’s name is Humper!”

(I am a bit confused, but then it dawns on me.)

Me: “Um, I think you meant to say Thumper.”

Girl: “Oh! Yeah, that’s what I meant. The bunny’s name is Thumper!”

(By this point, I am cracking up.)

Girl: “What’s so funny?”

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Ah, Mothers, Part 8

, , , | Right | September 1, 2013

(I am a student, and I babysit for money. On Mondays, I take the little boy I watch to the playground for a few hours and helicopter around him in case he hurts himself. A mother at the park approaches me.)

Mother: “You know, I just want to tell you: I see you here every Monday and I think it’s just great that you are such a hands-on young mother.”

Me: “Oh! I’m not his mother! I’m just his babysitter. But thank you anyway!”

Mother: “Sweetie, you don’t need to be embarrassed! You should embrace being a great mom, especially at such a young age. I can’t even imagine what its like for you as a single mom in your early 20s!”

Me: “Uhm, really, I am not his mother. I am just his babysitter. But I’m flattered you think I am doing a great job caring for him!”

(The mother walks away to the sand box area, where other mothers are sitting just within ear shot.)

Mother: “You ladies will not believe this! That girl over there is trying to claim that that baby is not hers! Some people! I wonder if her parents have brainwashed her in to thinking it’s their baby. There are some really crazy people out there huh?”

 

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