When I was thirteen, I read a series of books called “The Babysitter’s Club” and it changed my teenage life. Well, not really. But they were easy fun reads at the time. I decided I was going to make a ton of money. So much money that I could buy any pair of earrings I desired in the dollar section at the local store. The local store being 30 minutes away. Here you could buy yourself: a doll, a milkshake, an absurd amount of candy, an antique Indian figurine, jewelry, a coffee mug in the shape of a rattlesnake… The list goes on. I still have nightmares that I am lost in this giant store with its random crap, I mean merchandise. I would do all of my Christmas shopping here and I recommend you do, too.
My uncle hooked me up with my first babysitting gig. It was for a wealthy client, as in, they had a jacuzzi in their house. Let’s pause and take a moment to picture this. It was in a “rec room” connected to the family room and it was above ground. You could smell the chlorine from the couch.
The couple had two children and they were six and ten. They were going to be gone for 6 hours. But, they told me that the kids would be asleep for three of those hours. I was under strict instructions that Jimmy (that is what we are going to call him, not Damien, like he deserves) get his sleep. My eyes swam with dollar signs. If I remember correctly, they paid me very well. And I earned every penny.
It started off fine. The little six year old girl (let’s call her Suzy) was adorable with big brown eyes and flouncy blonde hair. Jimmy was a nondescript boy of ten with brown hair that covered his innocent looking brown eyes. He seemed normal. The night started off fine. The kids and I were watching t.v. Their beautiful large husky was asleep in the corner. And the ferrets were running around the room taking a nip out of my heel only now and again. Ferrets? Oh yes, ferrets, as in long giant rodents that they let gallivant around the house probably while they took a relaxing dip in their hot tub.
So, imagine me sitting on the couch with my now bruised heels tucked underneath me. Jimmy says he has to go the bathroom. “Okay, go ahead,” I mutter. I am preoccupied with the rodents trying to clamor on to the couch. A bit of time passes and Jimmy comes bursting into the room. He is wearing nothing but his swim trunks.
“Let’s get in the hot tub.”
“No, Jimmy, your parents told me you guys are not allowed in the hot tub. Besides I did not bring my swimsuit.”
Jimmy looked at me slyly from behind his bangs, and said, “you don’t need a swimsuit.”
Oh geez, am I really getting hit on by this ten year old kid? I thought I must have imagined it.
“Jimmy, go get your pajamas on. We are not going in the hot tub.”
So, sweet little Jimmy, goes and puts on his pajamas. He sits down next to me on the couch and says, “Do you want to kiss?”.
“What, Jimmy?”. I am aghast. This cannot be happening.
“Do you want to kiss? Or I could just rub my butt in your face,” he says totally straight faced and in his childlike innocent voice.
“OH MY GOD!”. I screamed. “Jimmy, you cannot talk to me like that.”
He jumps off the couch and proceeds to do a perverted little hip grinding dance around the room. The ferrets loved it.
“Bedtime!” I announce.
Little Suzy looks at me sadly and says, “But we haven’t eaten dinner. I’m hungry.”
Oh crap! Well, at least it gets me out of this room of sin.
So, the kids tell me they want a grilled cheese sandwich. Marvelous, easy and quick!
I butter the bread, put the cheese in between and attempt to turn on the burners. Wait, what is wrong with these burners? Ugh, it is an electric stove. I had only ever used gas (to this day I would not know what to do with an electric cooktop). So, I did what any sensible rattled thirteen year old would do. I nuked it. It became a soggy goopy inedible mess. Nonetheless, I served that experiment to those kids and then tucked them into bed.
I went to the restroom and then sat down on the couch with the biggest sigh. I did not even care when one of those ferrets crawled into my lap. I watched t.v. for an hour, when suddenly, I was grabbed from behind. I tried to wriggle free, but I kept being pulled back. I felt at what was grabbing me, sure it would be a certain little boy’s hand, when my fingers touched fur. Their dog was vigorously humping my back and I couldn’t break free! I was being mollested by their dog! I started screaming and wriggled myself loose. I was standing there staring incredulously at the dog, when I heard a giggle from the corner. I looked and little Jimmy was staring at me from the corner of the room. He must have snuck back in when I was in the restroom and had been quietly watching me for the past hour.
“I saw what (insert dog’s name) was doing to you.” Jimmy smirked.
Before he could go any further, I marched him back to his bedroom and bade him goodnight. The rest of the night was spent with me huddled in the corner watching the ferrets scuttle around, the dog laying in the corner and the entrance to the room in case little Jimmy decided to make another move.
After that night, I was very selective about who I babysat. It was nothing like the books I had read. As for little Jimmy, I do not know what he is up to now, and I hope to never find out. If I was a gambling type of girl, I bet it would involve ferrets.