(Beneath that mild-mannered exterior is: The Babysitter!)

Think back to your summer jobs as a young teenager. How many of you babysat? Without even thinking very hard, I recalled a few of my babysitting horror stories:

1) The 2 year old who screamed at the top of his lungs the entire time his parents golfed. I was sitting for them every morning, all week long, at a resort. The parents paid well, but on Friday I had to walk home because no one from the resort could take me. It was mid-summer, hot, buggy, and a long dirt road measured in miles, not blocks!

2) The parents who came home at 2 a.m. (they were supposed to be home at midnight) and reeked of alcohol. My parents weren’t very happy — dad picked me up and drove me home. They tried to hire me again, but I was always conveniently unavailable.

3) The time a blizzard knocked out the electricity and I was sitting in a very large house with 4 kids and no power. And I couldn’t find the flashlights. I sat next to the phone and called information every few minutes to get the time. I was given a ride home on the snowmobile ’cause the car couldn’t make it up the driveway.

4) The same family in the summer — add a few extra kids, due to a blended family situation. Six kids under the age of 12 and me. Two boys who knew how to make rubber band guns. I didn’t bust the rubberband perps till just before the parents arrived. I was so frustrated by that time, I snapped the homemade weapon into several pieces.

Why did I go back? They paid quite well.

What are your babysitting tales?

(Next installment: Catching Frogs)

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