Adventures in Babysitting

Last Saturday I babysat. Not a biggie for most people, but it was for me because the last time I babysat, the going rate was 50 cents an hour and the Osmond Brothers were crooning One Bad Apple on KYA.  

It's not that I dislike kids--I'm just not around them since I have none, hence no grandchildren, and most of my friends are single as well.  These two little girls, 7-year old Lucy and 5-year old Audrey, belong to my next door neighbors and they're so darned cute, I told their parents I'd be happy to watch them sometime so the young couple could enjoy a rare date night.  

"Really?" their mom asked as if not quite believing her ears. "You'd babysit for us?

"Sure," I said.  "We'll watch movies, make brownies. It'll be fun." And before I knew it, I had two pajama-clad munchkins sharing my overstuffed chair with the giant sock monkey that my niece added to my sock monkey memorabilia. And we really did have a good time. The girls were so polite, well-behaved, and adorable, it didn't feel like work at all. 

Well, except for that DVD they brought. They insisted I join them to watch Earth, a visually stunning 2007 Disney nature flick. I was enjoying it until--oh no! --the cheetah chasing a fleeing gazelle actually caught it. I couldn't help but gasp. I should have known not to trust a Disney movie. Hey, look what they did to Bambi's mother? 

But the girls were fine. Lucy turned to me and and without batting an eye, she tried to set my mind at ease. "It's all part of the food chain," she explained gently. "Cheetahs have to eat too, you know."

Which reminded me how precocious kids are. How unfiltered. How honest. Especially when Lucy asked me, "So how old are you? 50 or 90?"

Gulp.

In case I didn't get the hint, her message was delivered loud and clear when she came across a photo of me with my greyhound, Hazel. It's a decent enough picture for me to have used for my 2016 New Years Greeting card.  

"That must be an old picture," she mused as she admired it. "You look a lot younger."

Finally, my chance for redemption. "No, it's not," I replied. "It was taken just two months ago." Ha! So there. 

She studied my freshly-washed face and then returned to the photo, looking at it carefully, obviously perplexed. I could see the wheels turning in her head before she reached the only explanation that made sense. 

"Oh, I see," she said. "You're wearing make-up."

Ouch. I certainly will be moving forward.

When my adventure in babysitting came to a close three hours later, I really meant it when I told their mom I'd be happy to watch the girls again.  They thoroughly charmed me over and provided a refreshing break from the intricacies of adulthood.

Except for that "50 or 90" crack. Next time I'm wearing lipstick.