Adventures in Babysitting
Since someday Skippy will have to look to a babysitter to have even a smidgen of what was once a life, assuming Skippy had a life to begin with, I have decided to put together a few little vignettes of my experiences being babysat, to when I have had to babysit, to when I’ve had to use babysitters myself, well not for myself, well there was that onetime, for my own kids… you know what I mean!
As a young child one of the most detestable experiences you will go through are when your parents get all gussied up to go out and have fun leaving you with a “sitter”. Why do the call them “sitters”? Because that is all you are allowed to do when these Attila the Hun little bitches get control over you.
My childhood was filled with these little Calvin and Hobbs experiences. My job was to torture these teenagers to the point that they would never want to come back no matter what my parents paid. I was pretty good at getting rid of them too. Whether it was staging coups with my little brothers which usually ended up with a 15 year old tied to an end table with the telephone cords (I can’t wait to see the comments on this one), or streaking through the neighborhood, I could usually get them to not come back. Then came Valerie. Valerie was only a few years older than me, and at age 11 eleven I did not need a sitter, but my younger siblings ages 9 and 6 and 6 (twin brothers), did require one. My parents had attempted to leave me with my siblings once, however, they were not fans of coming home early to take one of the twins to the hospital for stitches. Apparently smashing their heads into the walls when they turn off your NES is not an acceptable punishment. In my defense I had just gotten to Mike Tyson on Punch-Out!
Now Valerie was a little different. She had younger and older brothers, and was used to all my dirty tricks, and had new ones that I hadn’t even thought of. She knew how to placate my younger brothers and keep me from gaining favor with them to usurp her powers. She was attractive, and used her wiles to keep me off balance. I played my games to shock, offend, and harrass her, and she didn’t even blink. Oh the dislike I had for her was boundless. By the time I turned 12 I realized that I had to be responsible and not kill my little brothers in order to keep anymore sitters from ever coming back to my house.
When I was a teen my parents allowed my aunt to rent a trailer that they owned on our property. My aunt had two young boys that I would sometimes baby-sit, but as I got to be around 15 the chore of keeping up with them to earn extra money was just too unenvious a task. Since my aunt needed a sitter she allowed a 15 year old hottie to move in for the summer to watch her kids. I had never met the girl before and my mom and aunt told me that she was a second cousin of mine. Since my family is huge, I thought nothing of it. This beautiful young teen was extremely flirtatious with me, and we’d sneak out at 2 am to swim in the pool or drink stolen beer, she would come on to me, but I just couldn’t do anything with her as I just couldn’t get around the whole incest thing. She left that fall, and the day she left she asked me if I was gay because all summer she had been getting naked around me, flirting with me, and doing everything she could to make it happen and I never once made a move. I told her I couldn’t get over making a move on my cousin. She busted out laughing and explained to me that her mom was a high school friend of my aunt and that my mom probably just told me that to keep me from doing her. My mother still laughs about it to this day. (And since I know it’s gonna get asked in the comments, no, I never saw her again.)
As a parent I was always a little concerned about having someone babysit my children. My ex-wife was even worse than me. We would interview people and never felt right with any of them. So we ended up not going out much… maybe that’s why she’s my ex… oh no wait, that’s not it, it’s because she was a filthy whore unfaithful. We finally settled on a 15 year old cousin of mine. (Don’t even let your minds go there, I know this one was a cousin, I was ring-bearer at her parents’ wedding.) She was a great baby-sitter. She was firm but kind, and my kids loved her. My ex and I were able to actually go out again for the first time in years. All was going well until… We found a roach on the bathroom floor. Not an insect, but 1/4 of a joint. Never again could we find someone that we trusted. Never again would anyone do. Never again did we go on a date.
I deployed to Iraq a month later. I was only home two months before the marriage collapsed.
Shortly after I discovered my ex-wife’s cheating whoredom, I was at a bar in my old home town. My ex was having an affair with a local cop, and he had practically moved into my old house at that point. I was discussing this with an old buddy, when a good looking woman of about 35 walked up to me and said, “Your ex thinks she’s the only girl in town he’s hooking up with, she has no clue that he gets around. Hell, he told her he had to work late the other night, and he came over to my house. You’re very handsome and I can’t understand why she would ever leave you for him. By the way, you look really familiar, do I know you? My name is Valerie.”
Like I said in the opening, “There was this one time.”
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November 18th, 2009 at 6:10 pm
So … how are you and Valerie making out these days?
CAPTCHA: fundraising scooping == ice cream social?
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Lt Ronald reply on November 21st, 2009 8:34 am:
She was obviously a filthy ho as well, hooking up with that same cop that every-one else in town including my ex was, so I treated her like one. Never called her again.
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Shadowydreamer reply on November 21st, 2009 10:38 am:
Or she could have been woo’d by cop, started a relationship, found out he was a cheating bastard, dumped him like last weeks trash and a few weeks later run into you and tried to tell you about it.. :P
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Cornbread reply on October 14th, 2010 3:27 am:
I think the statement she made of “He left her to come to me the other night” makes the suspension of disbelief a little harder on that one…
November 18th, 2009 at 7:12 pm
I hate babysitting boys, you’re all rotten little monsters. I baby-sat my little sister and the girls down the road for months, then the Smiths asked me to babysit their three boys. Hell! I was sure they were going to kill one another before the night was through I ended up calling my mom in tears. I then decided tutoring was by far a better job, I didn’t have to come up with things for the kids to do.
Captcha: beaked psotion – baked potion, what I felt like giving those boys to make them sleep!
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Captain Scurvy reply on November 19th, 2009 4:33 pm:
THBBBBBBT!!
Meanie pants!
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Anna reply on November 19th, 2009 9:02 pm:
lol, me or the kids, because while I’ll admit they’re terrified of my mom they suffered no lasting harm.
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November 19th, 2009 at 5:30 am
“Shortly after I discovered my ex-wife’s cheating whoredom” So, not bitter at all then?
Sucks about the hottie next door. You should’ve asked who her folks were. But then I would have suspected my parents of pulling a stunt like that. At least things worked out with Valerie.
My folks never let me look after my brother neither, but then I believe the best way to teach a kid not to touch the stove is to let him burn himself. They hired this one sitter, Alice, a year older than me. Damn! Almost caught her too, but there was never quite enough time between getting my brother to bed and my folks coming home.
I actually baby-sat for hire three times before finding new work. The kids had never been told no or disciplined in their lives, and their parents apparently where upset when they got home and found the four little hellions duct-taped to their beds and gagged.
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AFP reply on November 20th, 2009 2:39 pm:
I like how you mention that you babysat three times, then told the story about duck-taping the kids to the bed. I’m assuming you didn’t babysit for that family all three times, but it’s funny to imagine *every* babysitting outing ending this way.
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November 19th, 2009 at 6:29 am
We had a sitter once. Then when my big sister was old enough to watch us, she was six? Seven? Something like that.
This was back in the days when you didn’t lock your house, kept car keys in the ignition over night and such, so it was legal for a 1st grader to watch her sibs.
I baby sat once, and never was asked/told again, heh.
I knew a hot Valerie in my teens too, but not biblically, alas. sigh.
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November 19th, 2009 at 4:35 pm
What I hated most of all was when my babysitters wouldn’t let me do things that I was routinely allowed to do without my parents permission. Like using the microwave.
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November 19th, 2009 at 6:16 pm
I hated babysitting, and only did it when my parents volunteered me (read: ORDERED me) to sit for friends. When I was 15, they volunteered me to this one family with two kids, a 12 year old girl and her spawn-of-Satan 9 year old brother…… I knew I was in for trouble when, even before I met the kids, the parents offered double the usual hourly pay. Then on their way out the door, they told me, in front of the kids, that I was authorized to use “any means necessary” to control them: NEVER a good sign…..
Spawn-of-Satan controlled himself for about ten seconds after the parents left, then started proving what a little bastard he was: running, screaming, knocking things over, and smacking his sister. Then he smacked ME….. wrong move, you little jerk! I tripped his ass, and when I had him on the floor — face down — I took babySITTING literally, and, yes, SAT ON HIM. He tried to keep screaming, but it was hard to get enought breath with me on his back; he kept trying to reach me to continue the fight: that didn’t work either, since he was face down. I sat on that little bastard for over two hours, until the parents came home; his sister thought I was great, and kept offering to bring me snacks and drinks and things.
The parents thought I was a miracle worker, and got me back to sit for them again: Spawn-of-Satan didn’t give me any trouble: he sat quietly, until I told him to go to bed, and never heard a peep out of him.
Babysitting….. I hated it so much…..
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November 19th, 2009 at 6:44 pm
“Apparently smashing their heads into the walls when they turn off your NES is not an acceptable punishment. In my defense I had just gotten to Mike Tyson on Punch-Out!”
I seriously can relate to that.
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November 20th, 2009 at 8:11 am
i have 2 children, 11 years apart in age. the elder one, who goes by Satan and not because she’s cute, which she is, babysat her brother (whom she called demonspawn) from time to time once he got to be around 2 years old.
he was good till he got to be around 5, then he was a handful. till he really LISTENED when Satan getting the lecture on how to mind her brother… “try not to kill your little brother, he’s the only one you’re gonna get. but if you DO have to kill him, do it in the bathroom, less cleanup. oh and remember that bleach messes up the DNA so use that.”
he was a Very Good Boy. ;)
(and has asked often WHY he had to have the weird mama….)
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paula reply on November 20th, 2009 3:17 pm:
re the ‘weird mama’: he’s just lucky? ;)
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miss kitten reply on November 20th, 2009 5:57 pm:
pretty much how i see it. ;)
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November 20th, 2009 at 10:43 am
Didn’t misbehave much when babysat as a child, our home was in the midst of several hundred acres or woods, the bodies would of never been found! Besides, we new what Dad was capable of if he got a negative report when he returned home.
I liked babysitting as a teen, it was a way to get to know single mothers and impress them with how nice, and responsible I was… ;o)
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November 20th, 2009 at 12:24 pm
I’ve always been a military nerd (not to be confused with a brat), and I’ve got all the Nerf guns, toy soldiers, and Matchbox/Hotwheels trucks, tanks, and planes to boot. Well, this one time, my parents left me under the care of someone who works with the Diplomatic Corps.
It started innocently enough, debating the merits of solving problems with war or peace. But then I felt the need to demonstrate my point…
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November 20th, 2009 at 5:47 pm
Huh. I used to babysit a couple of boys (12 and 8). I played poker with them (not for $) to keep them under control. Worked really well.
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Nichole reply on November 23rd, 2009 5:38 pm:
Hah, when I was younger my parents had me in after school care. The teachers thought I was an angel, the after school care staff – well demon spawn was a polite term. They hired on a reservist who needed the money, only staff I respected – we played gin rummy.
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November 21st, 2009 at 12:51 pm
Years ago, my sister and I had a sitter, Leia. (I’m fairly certain that was her name. Pretty awesome, eh?) Anyway, her “boyfriend” (she was in Grade Eight) was down the street, and came to visit. We were all hanging out on the front lawn, and our sitter told my sister and me to go inside and get ready for bed. My sister and I obliged because we truly enjoyed her, and we were a little giddy. We were in the front hallway, and decided to race up the stairs. I noticed the front door was ajar, so as I was running – full force – I shut the door, with all my might. My sister and I were calmly brushing our teeth when we heard horrified shrieks and screams from downstairs. We both looked at each other, kinda scared. When we went downstairs, we found little drops of blood all through the front hallway, and could hear Leia crying and calling her mother on the phone.
Turns out as I pushed the front door shut, her hand was reaching out to open the door to go inside. I’d slammed the door shut on her finger and her pointer finger nail came clean off. I don’t recall what all happened after that, but I do remember going to my mom afterwards and sniffling while saying “I killed the babysitter!”
Thankfully, I didn’t get into ANY trouble at all – it was an honest mistake! (At least, I don’t remember getting into trouble…) A few days later at school, Leia was back with a huge bandage on her finger and called me over to talk to her Grade Eight friends. It was kinda odd.
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November 22nd, 2009 at 10:01 am
Ugh, baby-sitters. The only babysitting I experienced as a child was for one fall after mom got a job. It was with a soap-opera-watching, chain-smoking, stay-at-home woman who lived down the street. First, at nine years old, I hated (and still do) soap operas. Second, at 9, I was still 5 years away from smoking. Third, we weren’t allowed outside until mom rang the bell for us to come home (little brother and I). Yes, it was a cow-bell, and mom just didn’t understand that what you can/should do on 13 acres, 6 miles from town, you just don’t do in a quiet neighborhood…
Captcha: dealt employes – i think the ‘a’ is in the wrong place, or perhaps it isnt, and the ‘e’ is missing
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January 17th, 2010 at 10:35 am
I used fire it works, set fire to the couch and her still on it didnt go well for her (or me when mom caught a wiff of the house)it was only a small portion of it
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February 25th, 2014 at 9:23 am
Oh GOD! I STILL shudder when I think of having to watch my little sister. I actually ended up stacking two baby gates on top of one another to keep her from getting out of her room once! Add to the fact that, somehow, she got her hands on a 24 oz bottle of Mountain Dew, that night was hell. I swear I have PTSD from what she put me through.
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