Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Question of the Week
When Cordelia travels to Lady Trescombe's home she is received by the old lady and then told that she may go into the garden to meet her charge, Eileen, on her own. This is when I fall in looooooooove with Lady Trescombe.
My adolescent babysitting career was unexceptional as these things go. I came, engaged in awkward banter with the parents, was introduced to the perishing terrors, given loose instructions ('We've fed the baby tapioca...keep an eye on that...), and waited while the parents left. Sometimes this took some time--the little darlings would watch Mommy grab her purse and linger on the doorstep while mayhem and wailing would be emitting forth from her progeny. And I would be hopping with impatience for them to leave so that I could get on with the actual meet and greet--wherein the children, freed from the necessity of putting on a show for Mom and Dad could size me up without tears or undue drama.
Now that I am the mother I have learned a thing or two. Brief the babysitter (a well-trusted and hardy lass) on the way to our house. Make no eye-contact with my kids as I collect my things like that Longfellow poem: And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, and quietly steal away.
My question is: Babysitting stories. Cough them up.