It seems I’m sharing this blog-sit opportunity with Chris Cactus! I’m totally honoured! The word blog-sitting made me think of babysitting (my god that was cheap).
Like probably every teenage girl, I’ve baby-sitted many times. When the parents were out on a perfectly wonderful date, I was changing less perfect poo diapers (I hope the word poo is allowed on Casey’s blog ;). Most of the children I looked after were pretty cool. And for most of the families in my childhood neighbourhood I was their regular baby-sitter. There was however one family for whom I baby-sitted once. And after that I swore that even if they offered me a gazillion dollars (or Dutch guilders at the time) I’d never step foot in their horror house again. Ever.
When I arrived the mom introduced me to her little monsters. It was the 5 year old Lucifer and his 8 year old brother Satan, both wearing angel-looking smiles on their faces. As soon as the mother turned around to get her bag, those smiles disappeared as a drop of water on a hot plate.
God help me.
When their parents had left I asked the boys ‘So, what do you guys wanna do?’ They looked at me as if I replaced their GI-Joes with pink & fluffy bunny rabbits. Okaaay. Wrong start.
They’d choose to ignore me first (mumbling they were too old to have a baby-sitter) but it wasn’t for long until they made fun of me. After two hours of torture by this comical devil duo, I send them to bed.
It couldn’t have been 10 minutes later when I heard “help me, help me”. How could I not run upstairs? When I got there I found Lucifer with blood & slime pouring out of his nose. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Satan had knocked the shit out of his little pointy tailed brother. We washed the blood of little Lucifer and put him back to bed. How much worse can it get?
I grabbed some chips and a coke and settled to watch my girlie movie. *crack* *crack* It was them on the staircase. *crack* *crack*. They’d come down again. I send them up. They came down. I send them up. Down. Up. Down. It wasn’t until their parents came that they’d stayed up, pretending to be asleep.
‘How were they?’ their mom asked. ‘To be honest, they were terrible’ I replied.
With disbelieve she looked at me, her eyes were saying ‘my little angels?’. I took the money and left.
Now, the boys are teenagers and they’re terrorising the neighbourhood. I hear my parents complain a lot. My reply ‘No? Those little angels?’
Hope I haven’t bored ya'all with this post and hope to be a good guest blogger for Casey while she's enjoying her holiday. Sweety ;)