all images © Meghan Boyer Photography

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Triple Threat and the Babysitter

Miss Rachael has been our babysitter for five years.  She started with one and ended with three.  I'm sure she has no idea how she got here.  And how this whole mess started.  And why she ever signed up with this family to begin with.  She couldn't have known there would be three.  In three and a half years.  I'm also certain she would never guess an evening of babysitting would end like this:

Text message

Rachael:  Fyi my phones about to die and we are stuck in the bedroom

Me:  Locked in the bathroom?

Rachael:  Grady decided to play with the knobs and then was yelling because finn was going to eat their crackers so I shut the door.  We are locked in the bedroom at least grady is with us

As Sean and I laughed our asses off while driving home tonight, sorry Miss Rachael, we could not figure out how they got locked in the bathroom.  We decided that damn auto correct misinterpreted bathroom for bedroom.  Really, I just misread the text.  We only have one locking bathroom, in the master bedroom, and it locks from the inside.   We have only one locking bedroom, the kids room, and it locks from the outside.  So we can lock the kids in.  Not the babysitter.   The kids had other ideas.  But they misinterpreted too.  And locked themselves in with her.

Oh the triple threat.  They are naughty.  They call each other names.  You're a cheater!  Mooom...Lillian called me a cheeto!  They furniture jump.  And sweat like lambs.  According to Lillian.  One calls his penis a boo boo, mistaking it for diaper rash.  Another sits in the back of the bus, with the naughty kids.  They race across rows of picnic tables until other parents ask me, is he going to fall off of there?  Probably.  Will you take him to the emergency room if he does?  Because I might get arrested.  Or I could take him.  Could I just borrow your ID?   And pretend I'm you?

They tackle each other.  Sometimes with kisses.  Sometimes not.  They smile.  And nod.  Act like they listen.  Pretend I have something important to say.  Like I know what I'm doing.  Then pinch the sibling next to them behind my back. 

I can't even count to three but I'm pretty sure you're out.

They read to each other.  Then hit the listener over the head with the book borrowed from a public library.  I blame the government. 

My tax payer dollars paid for this book and I'm about to whack you over the head with it.  And don't act like I don't have a job, I've been reading to you for four minutes.  That's what I call a J-O-B.

When we arrived home tonight, Finn was barking at us from the front window.  I knew exactly what she was saying, they locked me out of the room without any crackersAnd why the hell am I no longer in any of the family photos?

The family photo outtakes

We don't bother to feed Dempsey, he came equipped with finger food.  Grady has his eyes locked on some poor, unsuspecting person's car keys.

Someone keeps sticking something up mom's butt.  Dempsey continues to starve.  Grady makes his poop face. 

Lillian's left eye is getting tired of being happy.  This is Dempsey's come hither look.  Please take me home with you, Mrs. Photographer.  Grady ignores the family.  Mom pinches Grady.  Look at the damn camera and pretend like you like us.

Dempsey's pissed.  He's had no takers.  Dad separates himself.  He farted.

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