How I got roped into this, I have no stinkin clue. When I got asked, I figured it would be a piece of cake…play with the kids for a while, do the pizza thing, and call it a night. After all, I teach tap to 4 and 5 year olds and I’ve babysat plenty of times in the past. How hard could this be?
Parents, I give you all the props in the world. You all need to be paid to do this job. I’ve seen my friend’s kids before and they always acted like they had some sense when they were around their mother and I. Well, when the door closed, these bammas (yup, I sure did call children bammas) turned right into the Children of the Corn, on some Omen type mess. Bebe’s Kids wouldn’t have been able to keep up.
As soon as I bid my friend a good night and closed her front door, a hulking load of five year old came flying off the banister and landed dead on the telephone table. I expected the table to break, but instead the boy actually bounced like some human superball and knocked me down. His sister creeps up from somewhere, on the stealth-mode tip, then looks at me and says, “You got laid out, Miss Tasha!” This little short thing didn’t even try to help me up.
Oh Claude Jeebus, I’ve got the debil on my hands for sure!
I picked myself up and asked the kids what they wanted to do for the night, and before I could get the question two syllables out of my mouth, the boy starts spraying me with a super soaker. Where in the name of Purple Rain did he get this thing? The girl got me down on her level and told me that I could use her super soaker to spray him back. Ok, no problem. We’re at war now.
So I went upstairs to get her super soaker and fill it up. I was gone not all of five minutes, but when I got back downstairs I thought I’d walked into The Jungle Book. These little hellions were actually climbing up the drapes and swinging like Tarzan. What!? So I did what any normal person would do, I sprayed both of them with the water gun I had in hand. They got down and acted like they wanted to catch attitude because I spoiled their fun. Look children, I’m not trying to make this fun for you, I’m doing your mama a favor.
Me: “Does your mother let you run around buckwild like this?”
Kids: “Of course Miss Tasha! We do this everyday”
Me: To myself: Bullshit! “Don’t lie, that’s not cool”
Maybe God was feeling sorry for me, because after I said that, they calmed down. I put in a movie and ordered some pizza. They were transfixed on the TV, and when the pizza came they ate like normal people and chilled out for a while. I really thought the mess was over.
Why must I set myself up for these things? Everyone knows there’s always a calm before the storm.
“Raaaaaaaarrrrrr” That’s the last thing I heard before being knocked flat on my face by a five year old and a seven year old. Apparently I didn’t realize that after dinner the living room turned into the set of WWE Superstars. Before I could even get my bearings, one was on one arm of the couch and the other one was on the arm of the loveseat, standing there like they were standing on turnbuckles of the ring. I think my life actually flashed before my eyes. “Lord, I am way too young to die like this”. And here they came. This time they landed right on my chest. Wind knocked out of me something fierce! I got tag teamed by the midget brigade! BOOOOO! The boy proceeded to clothesline the girl, but she fought back and put him in a full nelson. That’s my girl! Get him girl!! Damn I’m not supposed to say stuff like that, *ahem* back to my senses.
The house was shaking because they were landing on the carpet so hard tearing each other to shreds. The boy kept knocking into my knees trying to take me out like a tree. One of the knickknacks on the shelf fell off and broke, so I’d have to explain that one to Maria when she got back. I was really about to find an orange extension cord or a belt and whoop some ass with a vengeance, but it hit me that those are not my kids. I am not trying to get involved in that tangled web.
What would Super Nanny do? Time out was not an option, and neither was that “let’s see who can be silent the longest game”. Naw, these kids were too smart for all of that. So I had to reach into the handbook of ghetto child discipline and get gangsta.
Me: “I’m about to call your father so he can come get you.”
Kids: “Ok Miss Tasha, sorry. Please don’t do that. We’ll be good”
And that’s all it took. Kids started being nice to each other and watched the rest of the movie. They fell asleep, knocked out until their mother came back. I’ve never been so happy to see another adult ever in my life. When she opened the door, she took a look at my bruised up face and my limp and she knew the deal.
“Aww damn Tash, they jacked you up too? I can’t leave them with ANYONE! Now you see why I never go out?”
“Yeah, they almost got the best of me, but I threatened them with Daddy and they straightened up”
“You found the secret. Now you know how to get them to act right. Maybe you could become our permanent babysitter!”
I politely said I’d have to get back to her, but in my head was oh hell no. I can’t mess with that again. I like being alive. Again, parents, you all have the hardest job ever. Do not expect me to join your ranks anytime soon, if ever. I swear if I give birth to some alter-ego Damien child, I will run away from home. Bless your souls, my heart goes out to you!