A part of me always wanted to write a novel about all the different babysitters I had growing up, changing the names of the helpless and hapless, but retaining every single detail.
…the babysitter who instead of interacting with my sisters 3 and I would lock us in our room and go on the family computer to play computer games.
…the babysitter who brought over her boyfriend to the house while my parents were away.
…the babysitter who was present at the time my sister H* broke her arm and didn’t do much about it, she actually was in denial that my sister broke her arm, but when the dust was settled and the tally was accounted for; H* 1 Babysitter 0.
…or the babysitter who exchanged watching her kids with my parents for watching hers, but she let us run around and do whatever (they lived on a farm) and yet she was adamant and somewhat anal about the care she wanted her kids to receive.
…or the one who accidentally knocked over our grill while it was going, with a WHOOSH fire consumed our food and thankfully not our garage.
…or the babysitter who we told our toilet wasn’t working, but he used it anyway, only to have our pipes in the basement rattle and produce this awful screeching noise that worked its way up through the toilet as he was on it, nothing quite like a grown man screeching what the hell is that? An audible enema.
My parents were the worst when it came to selecting babysitters, even Calvin had consistency with Rosanne despite him always plotting against her, I think my parents were under the impression that some of their friends knew what they were doing since they had kids…well for the most part, they thought wrong!
The majority of our babysitters were irresponsible and just trying to make a few bucks on the sly, they didn’t tend to us kids but to their own selfish ways.
Yet I consider my time as a babysitter one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. It’s not an oddity or a rarity for a guy to be a babysitter, but I think because I’m a guy that limited me to some degree with being one but I still managed to get more jobs than my sisters! 🙂 I think I got more jobs than they did because a lot of our families we babysat for had more boys than girls, plus I never babysat someone so young I had to change diapers (tho I know how) and a lot of it was just making some simple meals for the kids, playing with the kids and reading them a story before they went to sleep, easy stuff for me all around.
I still remember feeling sympathetic to one boy out of a family of 3 that I babysat for, he was young and was lactose intolerant, so when I served his sibs some ice cream (which his parents allowed me to do beforehand) he had soy cream, which is a lousy substitute in my opinion, but he was happy and cheerful and didn’t know better. Having sympathy and relating to kids has roots that stem from my days of being a babysitter, I don’t get completely how little kids tick, but I do enjoy engaging them in childish conversations; why do they think the sky is blue, why do they think the grass is green and so on.
So while I got the short end of the stick when I was the one being babysat, I’m glad I was able to use some of my skills and a healthy dose of what not to do to babysit better and more efficiently than what I observed and experienced.