Adventures in Babysitting

July 27th, 2006 at 06:38pm Beth Brandon 130

I have recently started babysitting again. It has been some time since I have done this, but I figure I can use the money and the practice since I might actually have a small human being of my own some day. Thus far I’ve had great families and great kids, but the other night I ran into a problem I’ve never experienced before. Was the child a boy or a girl?

I was deaf. They were Southern. I thought she said Jim, I swear. For some reason I had a preconceived notion that I would be babysitting two boys, 8 and 10.  My mind heard Jim. 

Just as I was given this information, I heard the pitter patter of feet running up the stairs. I turned to find a slightly androgynous eight year old. Shit. I certainly didn’t think I’d find myself questioning the sex of a child. Here was an eight year old, with just-above-shoulder-length hair, donning glasses, a baseball t-shirt, plaid pants and navy blue slippers.  I thought maybe if I repeated the name that I might get some clarification. “Hi Jem.”

So I cheated. I blended a couple of names together. Big deal. Did she say Jim or Jen? I haven’t run into too many eight year olds named Jim these days.  Think, Jimmy, maybe even James. On the flipside, I grew up in the era of Jenny.  I have many friends who now, as adults, go by Jen, but an eight year old? I was stumped and I’d only been in the house for two minutes! Whichever sex might prevail Jim/Jen was still adorable and I felt like an ass. My sometime lack of hearing combined with a Southern drawl did not help matters when trying to deduce what name I had heard. 

Beth, you ask, didn’t the long hair give it away? Well, if I lived in a conservative town in Middle America, perhaps yes, that would’ve answered the sex question. However, I live in Aspen. Ever hear of five year old ski phenom, Bridger Gile? Bridger is a boy, has long hair and rocks it. He’s not the only little boy I’ve seen with hair that grows below his ears.  My mind raced as it tried to put the pieces together. Damn those Aspen parents who made little boys with long hair trendy!

As we headed downstairs, I feared the worst, imagining that I’d be stumped the entire evening and have to say “hey you,” when trying to get said child’s attention.  I had one more child to meet. I prayed that the other one would be easier to figure out. “Michael’s downstairs. He’s supposed to be in the shower, but you know boys,” Mom says to me. Phew! And the point goes to Jen! I felt relieved knowing that Jim/Jen had damp hair which clearly meant that SHE has just showered. Right?

Anxiously, I peered around the corner to find a ten year old boy with short hair. I was excited, but still a little doubtful. Maybe the two boys are complete opposites. Maybe one is a young Republican and the other has vowed to never, ever eat mammals and subscribes to PETA! CRAP, I’ve done it again! Easy does it, they’re kids Beth. If it hadn’t been for your preconceived notion of watching two boys, you wouldn’t be in this pickle at all. 

I approached the two kids calmly and sat down on the floor with them, so as to be on their level. A babysitter, after all, wants to be liked by her subjects.  “Hi Michael, Hi Jen! I hear you all play a mean game of poker!” I said with a smile. The smiles I got in return told me I was none other than a typical young adult dork paid to look after them. I knew the hard part was behind me.  They had accepted me for the time being and I had offended noone. 

After the parents left we watched plenty of the Disney channel and more importantly I relaxed and came to the realization that I was with one boy and one girl. Once I let go of the name issue, it was clear that Jim/Jen was in fact, Jen.  She wasn’t drenched in pink, nor was she trying to trade baseball cards with me.  She was a really neat kid who seemed to have interests in everything from skateboarding to fashion to books.  Can you imagine what I would have done if I’d gotten a Shannon or a Pat?

So is it hopeless?  Do you think my lack of time spent around children will plague me in the future?  Probably not. It certainly made for an interesting start to the evening.  Chances are, I won’t encounter this scenario again. I do babysit next week for a different family and I think I’m actually looking forward to the impending challenge. Poopie diapers here I come.

Entry Filed under: Aspen, Family, Comedy, Women