The Smith’s had 3 boys, ages 4, 8, and 10 and it was a pretty easy job seeing as how they were all pretty self-sufficient, no need for diaper changing or human interaction really as they were perfectly content to spend the evening watching tv and playing video games. All I had to do was to cook them dinner (usually no more complicated than ordering pizza or making pasta, and its sad to say that the growth in my culinary repitoire has since plateaued) and the send them off to bed (at wich time my boyfriend would come over and we would “watch a movie” and we all know this phrase is fifteen year old speak for makeout for 2 hours).
This fun little evening would end around midnight when he would have to move his oh sooo cool red, Pontiac Sunfire (hey, I was a country girl…yes I thought his red Pontiac was cool) from the gravel driveway so Mr. & Mrs. Smith didn’t suspect that their babysitter was doing anything immoral while their darling boys slept overhead.
Well, my Friday night was spent babysitting my boss’ daughter (who is, by the way, a precious moments doll come to life). Boss lady asked my if I would be cooking for her to which I replied, “not unless you want your daughter to have pizza, pasta or something that can be made by pressing the express-cook button the microwave.” So pizza it was! It was a harsh night, full of defeat – I got shut out of “Hungry Hungry Hippos”, got my @ss handed to me in “Candy Land” and at one point she had me under the dining room table glueing popcicle sticks together – Oy!
So I put her to bed around 9 after reading her two bedtime stories (beauty and the beast and Cinderella – a story I will NOT be reading to my own daughter) and tucked her in. About an hour later I heard her crying over the baby monitor. So of course I rushed in and picked her up, tried to calm her down.
I’m thinking “oh god! What’s the matter? Does your tummy hurt? Did you have a bad dream? Do you need water? Did you wet the bed?” And she’s just crying and crying and crying and I can’t calm her down! This goes on for like 5 minutes! (Felt like 30) I’m thinking “OMG!”
This is my boss’ kid! I’m going to get fired! Should I call 911? Should I call my boss? And then – she just stopped and went back to sleep! Apparently she has NIGHT TERRORS! This would have been useful information to have say at the beginning of the evening.
That took 2 years off my life I swear! *Sigh of relief* Well maybe someday I’ll have a little red headed, green-eyed terror of my very own….but for now I’ll stick to my birth control patch and my cat.
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