Babysitting

I've been trying to do my best to make friends around here, and I guess I'm doing okay because I got my first gig babysitting. A girl in the ward who also lives at Spencer View went with her husband to a concert and I volunteered to watch her two boys. They were already in bed when I got here so it's an easy night. Rocky came with me, but when Brandon got back from playing basketball he took her.

So now here I am, in a quiet house. I can hear the appliances running and don't really feel comfortable moving around. It is such a strange feeling to be alone in someone else's house. It takes me back to my days as a young teenager when many of my weekends were spent agonizingly waiting for parents to return. I would look at the clock every 3 minutes and jump at every tiny sound. I'm not usually a wimpy girl, but my imagination would run wild and I'd get so scared. I'd listen for any indicator that could signal the approach of a car in the driveway and I swear that the parents were always about an hour later than they said they would be.

I used to get paid 2 dollars an hour. Even to a twelve-year-old $2 is not worth it. I could lose my whole Friday night and earn a grand total of 6 bucks. It was interesting though because the rate was never set. People would pay differently every time. I liked it that way because it added a degree of chance. It mostly depended on what kind of change people had on them. Sometimes I'd get a bonus and sometimes I'd be royally stiffed. It all seemed to average out in the end.

Now as a parent it is hard to even believe that people used to leave their kids with someone so inexperienced. I remember one time when I was about thirteen I was left with a baby. I have no idea how old he was but I remember that I was supposed to give him a bottle, burp him, and put him to bed. I was terrified. Actually, if I'm going to be honest, I'd have to say that until I had Rocky I would have felt just as nervous. Once I had some experience with a baby I realized that it is no big deal. But, at that time, I was positive that the kid would die if I didn't do it right. The baby cried for three hours straight. That night I took my 5 bucks and swore I'd never do it again. Of course, I had been kidding myself.

I'm sure that the families that I babysat for didn't have enough money to pay for anyone older than thirteen, but I don't know if I could do it. I mean, have you seen any Beehives lately? I almost feel like they need babysitters of their own.

It's a good thing that I'm much more mature now. Especially as I sit here, in this dark, creaky house, all alone. I'm sure they'll be home any second.