Don't Tell the Babysitter Mom is a Nut

I am patting myself on the back as I write this, friends.

I hired a sitter to watch the little rugrats on Saturday night while the P-dog and I painted the town red until ten ‘o clock in the PM!

Not only did I totally nonchalantly ask a very responsible fifteen year old to be custodian over my childrens’ lives for four entire hours and less cash than I would pay for highlights, I also proceeded to dress up, leave the house, become drunk on the fumes rising off my glass of chardonnay, and return to two peacefully sleeping kids and a home that was miraculously still standing!

I heard multiple sirens during the course of the evening, but not once did I pick up my cell phone.

I left the simplest of instructions for her taped to the fridge, along with a mere three emergency numbers and the direct line to the Peds office. As I made my exit, my only words of counsel were, “Don’t let the J-dog out of your sight even for one minute, make sure the V-meister doesn’t eat any toothpaste, don’t let her play with the liquid soap dispenser, and warn her of the risk of death by electric shock if she so much as thinks about going near her night light.”

And this time, we remembered to pay her!

Because there was that other time . . .the time of shame, when the P-dog assumed I would pay her and I assumed the P-dog had done paid ‘er, and just as I was dropping her off at her school for a theater production (it was an afternoon sitting gig), my inner prisspot though to inquire, “My husband did pay, you, did he not?"

S: “Um, no.”

Me: “Are you freakin’ kidding me????? M*th*rf*ck*r!!!!!!!!!” (I didn’t say that).

[Whips out wallet and begins rifling through a pile o’crap looking for money that is not there.]

“Do you guys have an ATM at this school?”

S: “No, but it’s really OK, Mrs. Rimarama. It’s no big deal. I love your kids and it’s really no problem.”

Me: “Are you freakin’ kidding me? No ATM?”

S: “No, but it’s OK, honestly.”

Me: “Can you accept a check? Do you have a bank account? How about this Victoria's Secret gift certificate? It has like forty bucks still on it!”

S: “Um, no thank you, Mrs. Rimarama.”

Me: Ohmahgah, are you even going to be able to get into this show???? OK! I have a plan! I'll drop you off, drive to the nearest ATM, get out some cash, then meet you and your friends back here! Just tell me where to go!

S: Um, no.

Me: “Listen,” (Leans in extremely close and clutches M’s hand) I swear upon all that is good and holy, I will get some money to you as soon as humanly possible. If you don’t get cold, hard, cash in the mail from me by Tuesday, you can assume I’m dead, do you understand me?”

S: (Backing away from the car) “Yeh, it’s cool. Please don’t sweat it, Mrs. Rimarama.”

Me: (Screaming after the fleeing M): “Just one more thing! Don’t spread this incident around the Lithuanian, community, OK? I have to preserve my rep with the church ladies!”


God, that was embarrassing.

But, she did agree to sit for us again!

And a good time was had by all.