So most of you know that I babysit on my own and through an agency in the Atlanta area. I have to say that a few nights ago, I met a mother who is quite possibly the most anal-retentive woman on the planet.
These were new clients, and I showed up about 10 minutes early. The very second I walk in the door, A.R. Mama appears at the top of the stairs...
"Oh good Amy you're here early could you take off your shoes we have white carpet and we don't wear shoes in the house so if you could just take off your shoes because we like to keep our carpets white you know." (all in one breath)
I take off my shoes. I introduce myself as ABBY. No response.
A.R. Mama proceeds to walk me into the kitchen and show me the pizza she ordered for her son to eat for dinner. "Now Amy, he can have two pieces. Just two pieces, Amy. If he's still hungry, I've cut up some oranges and strawberries. They're here in the fridge (she pulls them out of the fridge), see the strawberries? There's a container of caramel dip if he needs it, but I really don't want him to have a lot of it. Could you spoon it out in a bowl for him Amy? That way he doesn't get too much."
Son comes downstairs. He is THIRTEEN. Why am I babysitting a thirteen year old boy? Oh well, it's not my money. I am introduced to the son. She repeats the entire pizza-strawberries-oranges-caramel dip spiel to the son. He goes back upstairs.
"Now Amy (she is STILL calling me AMY), if he's thirsty he can have a glass of milk. Here are his cups. Make sure you give him a plastic one like this (she shows me what a plastic cup looks like) because we don't give him glass. He might drop it and it would break on the floor so we don't give him glass. He can have a glass of Diet Coke, but only one. Then he needs to drink more milk or water. Water would be good. " At this point, I am really beginning to wonder what I've gotten myself into. I also feel incredibly sorry for her kid.
She then proceeds to pull out FOUR PLACEMATS and strategically places them across the bar where she wants her son to eat. She shows me where to put the plate. Then I get a lesson in how to clean off the bar and placemats using Fantastik. (I am almost 30. I think I know how to wipe off a counter, but apparently not.)
After all of these fascinating instructions, we go upstairs to son's room. She shows me which book he has to read, which Torah passages he needs to practice for his upcoming bar mitzvah and tells me at least 15 times that he needs to do each thing for at least 30 minutes. Got it. I am instructed to stay in son's room while he goes to the bathroom to take a shower. Creepy.
Son is clean. We go downstairs. I meet Dad. She introduces me as Amy. (sigh) I tell Dad my real name. He smiles. A.R. Mom is oblivious. He seems to have accepted the idea that he is married to the most controlling woman in the world. While she tells me AGAIN that her son should only have two pieces of pizza (He's 13! He could probably eat the whole thing!!!), I catch a glimpse of Dad. He is definitely rolling his eyes. I smile to myself on the inside. It is now about 6:30.
Mom and Dad go to get ready. Son dutifully eats his two pieces of pizza and drinks his milk. He even consumes his ONE (plastic) glass of Diet Coke. I eat my one alloted piece of pizza. (Apparently Mom recognizes that I indeed need to be back on Weight Watchers.) I wipe down everything as instructed with Fantastik. We go upstairs and for the next hour, I read while Son sings his Torah passages and attempts to read a book he is clearly uninterested in.
When the hour is up, Son says he wants to show me his new skateboard equipment. I'm game. We go outside and he shows me the new tricks he's learned. A.R. Mom comes racing outside. "He's dirty! He's sweaty! He just took a shower! Why did you get dirty and sweaty? This is terrible! Now you'll have to shower again! Again! You're dirty and sweaty!!" (Get the picture?) Dad is behind her... rolling his eyes.
It is now 8:00. I have been there for 2 hours and they still haven't left!!! I assure A.R. Mom that Son will rinse off and be clean. I am instructed to go back upstairs and listen for the shower. They finally leave.
Son is clean. Again. We go downstairs. I am in shock. EVERYTHING is pink, gold and cream. The chairs ALL have plastic on the seats. There are animal statues everywhere. And each one seems to have a strategically placed animal print blanket or throw on it. Amusing, to say the least. The next two and half hours are pleasant. We play Rock Band and Guitar Hero. He (obviously) kicks my butt.
Bedtime. When lights are out, I go back to the kitchen to watch TV. There isn't really a good place to sit, but I don't feel comfortable going back to the basement and trying to figure out how to work the massive TV setup down there. I am thirsty. I open the fridge in hopes that I can find something that's not milk to drink....
OH
MY
GOODNESS!
That's right. Not one, but TWO sections full of nail polish. And yes, I absolutely took pictures of it. In fact, the first thing I thought upon seeing her refrigerator abnormality was, "I have to blog about this!!" :-)
I knew the woman was a little off, but seriously? This borders on bizarre for me. I hope you've enjoyed this little snippet from my "Adventures in Babysitting" ! Happy Thursday!
6 comments:
Oh.my.word. I am actually shocked! I hope you baby(um, man)-sit again so we can read more!!
She beats my mom, and that's tough.
Wow. Wow. I just read this whole thing out loud to III.
You are such a great writer, Abbs. you should bless us with it more often.
Abby- You don't know me, but I found your blog through Kari's and I just had to tell you that was the funniest thing I have read in a long, long time. Seriously. I pictured the kid as a 5 year old- not 13 when she went on and on about how she had cut up strawberries and oranges if he was still hungry. I'm surprised that she even let him have takeout pizza.
this is funny, funny stuff.
What a HOT mess. Seriously. Poor Kid.
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