Hooray, Slam Dunk... NOT!

Photo by Claire

Everyone who’s ever played basketball, loves the feeling of seeing their shot “swoosh” through the hoop.  I thought I had a slam dunk at my last babysitting job, but turns out this was the shot that never went in the hoop.  I will now tell you the story through my eyes, the babysitter. 

I was spending my Friday night babysitting, for the zillionth time, for a family with the most adorable boys.  Their parents were going to a concert that they referred to as, “an old person band that you wouldn’t know.”  That’s what they all say.  Anyways, the boys were happy as could be, which made my work about 100% simpler.  I am going to refer to the older brother as Pierre because he is in Frech Immersion, and his brother will be called Smiley as he is always smiling. 

Pierre looked at me and said, “I have trouble with names because I know so many people...”

This is a tactic that most adults use called “let’s not ask a direct question and instead state something sorta similar to what we really want to know.” 

So I looked at him with a sweet smile and said, “Are you asking my name? It’s Claire!”

After I told him, he quickly moved on to being a boy, but I was still stung in the heart with the fact that he had not remembered my name.  Don’t get me wrong here, I understand that he is six, but I cannot count how many times I have been over and babysat him.  

About thirty minutes later, the boys and I were sitting on the couch watching a television show as we always do.  I stared at the clock for about an hour waiting for the painful show to be over, and finally the clock struck eight.  Looking at the boys, I told them that television time was over and we had to go downstairs and get ready for bed.  Being an ignorant teenager, I figured that they would listen and go downstairs.  That did not happen.  

Fat tears filled Pierre’s blue eyes, and he whimpered, “Pleeeeeeeassssseee can we watch more?”

My response probably came across as clear as mud to him, “I’m so sorry buddy but we have to go to bed.”

Pierre, walked away and went downstairs, but Smiley was not coping well with the blackened screen.  Smiley screamed and cried, threw pillows at me, and ran around the house as I tried to calm him.  Nothing worked.  My kind and warmhearted approach was not working as I wanted.  

Finally, after much work, I got him downstairs, but he ran back up and threw his remote control truck around.   Although the toys everywhere, I convinced him to brush his teeth and put his jammies on.  Once all this was done, we sat down and read The Invention of Hugo Cabret.  This book was my guardian angel, and the boys were mesmerized by the black and white pictures.  

Many hours passed, until the parents came back, and before driving me home, they asked, “How did it go?” 

With a smile, I attempted to explain my adventure.