The two girls were dolls. Exactly what I wanted -- two young girls that I could play Barbies with and teach crafts.
|Image by SweetBaiTsa|
Did I mention he was bigger than me?
At thirteen, I had yet to hit puberty (one of my many traumas), so I stood 4' 10" and maybe 100 pounds. Sean was a big-for-his age nine-year-old who liked wrestling and bullying 13-year-old shy girls. Oops.
Did I mention he thought the occasional body slam was "all in good fun?"
I'd try sending him outside to play, and things would quiet down temporarily. Then I'd look out into the backyard. Wait... where did those other kids come from? I'd head back to find out he had invited over 3 neighbors to play capture the flag, or slip 'n slide ... or something more violent.
Did I mention that the parents approved of the extra kids hanging around?
When I would tell the parents I did not feel comfortable keeping an eye on the neighbor's kids, they said it was fine! After all -- it would keep Sean occupied, right? How did I go from babysitting 2 girls and keeping an eye on their older brother... to refereeing a war in the backyard?
Did I mention I was making $1.50 an hour?
In addition to watching the kids after school, the parents would occasionally ask for some weekend babysitting. This was nice -- in theory -- because I just had to put the kids to bed, then watch some TV. Right?
Did I mention that the nine-year-old was bigger than me? Oh, yeah. I did.
Getting this boy to bed was a joke. I basically gave up. How does a thirteen-year-old shy girl get a nine-year-old bully boy to bed? She doesn't. He wanders the house until he falls asleep.
Did I mention the parents were heavy drinkers?
The finale. One weekend night, the parents walked in the door after their night out, and they were wasted.
This drunk father would have to drive me home (I was too young to drive).
At a shy thirteen, I couldn't tell the people that hired me, "Hey, sorry -- I gotta call for a ride. You are way too drunk to drive me home. Can I still get paid?"
After that night, my mom and I decided that I didn't have to babysit there ever again.
This post was prompted by Mama Kat's writer's workshop. I was responding to the prompt, "A memorable babysitting job."