by Thomas J, (Dallas, Texas, USA) -Now let me start off by saying, I don’t have any children of my own. I’m only 23 years old, and I don’t think I could handle any kids in my life quite yet.
To be quite honest, I have enough trouble getting myself dressed in the morning, let alone making sure a couple of little children do, as well. Having said that, despite my lack of kids, I have dealt with the experience of hiring a babysitter before, and it was hardly a pleasant one. I guess that would be the nice, politically correct way of putting it.
Last year, my aunt and uncle went away for a couple of nights and asked if I could watch over their two little kids. One of them is a 9-year-old girl, and the other is an 11-year-old boy, and no, I am not the horrible babysitter in my story.
Moving on, one night when I was tasked to take care of the two little monsters (relax, they were dressed in monster costumes), I got invited out to a dinner date with some friends I haven’t seen in years. Knowing this was one of my only opportunities to socialize with them, I quickly dialed up the first available babysitter I could find and asked if she could head over. Happily, she obliged.
She was 17 years old, and she seemed like a genuine sweetheart. I made sure she had experience dealing with kids around this age before, and she said she had, so out the door I went assured I had made a wise decision.
Fast forward to a few hours later when I arrived at the house. The little boy was rolling around on the floor just inside the front door, his short was torn, and his face was covered in paint. I asked him what happened and where the babysitter was, and he just said “I dunno,” giggled, and ran off.
Getting a little aggravated, I went upstairs to find my young female cousin jumping up and down on the bed, wearing one of her mom’s tops, with the room a complete and utter mess. After telling her to get down, I explored the rest of the house, and I nearly screamed at the horrors I met.
The whole house was a wreck. Everything was out of its place and strewn everywhere, the sink was jam-packed with dirty dishes, and someone had even spilled cola on the kitchen floor and hadn’t cleaned it up. Furious, I walked up to the babysitter, threw her money at her, and told her to get out. Looking terrified, she asked what she had done wrong, to which I could only answer “everything.”
She stormed out, and I set off cleaning up the mess she left me. Never again will I hire such worst babysitter ever (even if only for a few hours) if I’ve been asked to babysit myself. I guess it’s true when they say that you learn from your mistakes.