Luckily babysitting is only a hobby now

A few weeks ago Kelly asked me to babysit for Hannalaide.  After my last babysitting adventure with those two, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.  Even though I dealt with the wrath of that night for an entire week, I doubled up on my vitamins and orange juice to prepare for an awesome night of babysitting.

Late Thursday afternoon my dad and I took the last off- peak train out to Garden City for the Pineapple Ball.  My mom arrived soon after, followed by Christine, Hunter, Stephen and Maureen.  Hannalaide was passed around the house, making their rounds among the doting adults throughout.  In a similar whirlwind in which they arrived, all of my black tie clad relatives left.  

With Charlotte’s Web on to distract Hannah from her parents’ departure, I brought Addie downstairs to play.  As I was pulling toys from the basket for Adelaide, I heard a horrible sound from behind me.  I quickly turned around to find Bailey throwing up.  A lot.  The dog puked right next to Adelaide who was already scooting her way towards it.  I scooped her right up, and stood there for a moment, slightly dumbfounded.  I ran up the stairs to see if any adult was left to hold Addie, but looked out the window to see the car pulling away from the house.  

Okay, cleanup time.  First things first, I had to get the mound of throw up off the carpet.  With Addie on my hip, I took the entire roll of paper towels and brand new trash bag downstairs.  I put Addie down on the opposite side of the room, and hustled to the pile of puke.  I shoveled the throwup into the bag, keeping my eye on Adelaide The Scooter as she chased me down.  I also started a conversation with Hannah, making sure she knew I hadn’t forgotten her.  My questions about what each of the animals’ names were not taken well. 

“It’s Charlotte!”  

“And who is the pig?” 

“Wilbur.”  

I think if she were old enough to give me attitude, she would have.  So, I left her to her talking farm animals, and scooped up Addie just before she reached the finish line.  And don’t worry, I used one hand to scoop puke and the other to scoop the child.  It’s a skill that I have mastered over years of child and pet sitting.

The two of us hustled back up the stairs to start the search for carpet cleaner.  Bailey really did a number on the floor.

I set Addie down again, on the opposite side of the kitchen, so I would have time to rummage through the cleaning products.  She did her split maneuver immediately and scooted her little heart out.  As I told her to slow down, she just smiled, and I swear she scooted faster.  She won.  I closed the kitchen cabinet, washed my hands and we went downstairs.  

I was hungry, which meant Hannah must have been hungry as well, so I opened the folder of takeout menus to order pizza.  Louie’s menu was right on top.  I called, ordered the pizza- a large so the black tie-ers would have snacks to come home to- and told the pizza man to deliver it to number 90.  

I asked Hannah another question about a talking animal, as I brought Addie into the laundry room in search of carpet cleaner.  I didn’t find anything.  But when I walked back past the setting stain, the horrible stench filled my nostrils, and I was on a whole new mission.  I went back upstairs with Addie, and left her on the opposite side of the kitchen with a bucket.  The sand toy barely acted as an obstacle in her beeline for the open cabinet, and cleaning products I now had scattered on the floor in search of the one carpet- appropriate bottle.  Just as the little one was closing in on me, I found the Oxy Clean!  Thank goodness!  

I put Addie on my hip, awkwardly squatted down to put the other cleaners back in their places, and called down to Hannah, asking yet another ridiculous question.

“Hey, Miss Hannah Banana!  Can you see Charlotte now?”

“No.”

“Can you see Wilbur?”

“No.”

Okay, that was enough of an interrogation for the moment.

When the kitchen was back to normal I took Addie and the Oxy Clean back downstairs, and I squirted the heck out of that stain.  The bottle said to let it set, so I barricaded it, and played with Addie across the room, and away from the stench.

I glanced at my telephone to see that thirty minutes had nearly elapsed.  I told Hannah that Addie and I were going to get the pizza.  I grabbed my wallet for some cash and in that moment realized that I was a complete idiot!  The house is not number 90!  It is number 91!  I have had this address memorized since I was eight years old!  In my lifetime I have probably written enough thank you notes to this address to fill an entire bookcase, but now, when it comes to ordering a pizza, I get the address wrong?!  Ridiculous.  

Sure enough, I look out the window to see a teenage boy getting back into his car parked across the street.  Yup, he just tried to deliver a pizza to the neighbors.  I opened the door and tried waving to him, but I had no luck, and in the process, Bailey tried to sneak out, but Addie and I didn’t let that happen.  

Within a few seconds my telephone rang, and it was the pizza delivery boy.  I immediately apologized.  I told him that I was actually at number 91 across the street, and we hung up.  He climbed out of his car, grabbed the pizza and brought it to the door.  With Addie on my hip, Bailey behind my knee, and the door propped wide enough for one large pizza box to fit through, I thanked the pizza boy and apologized again.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just the babysitter!”  It wasn’t the entire truth, but he didn’t need to know the details.

As the smell of pizza erased the smell of dog puke in my nose, my night instantly began to turn around.  Addie began twirling her hair, and it was bedtime.  I put her to sleep and Miss Hannah and ate our pizza and drank milk.  The two of us went downstairs to finish watching Charlotte.  I took a few breaks to scrub the carpet, but mostly, we snuggled on the couch.  When the movie was over, I brought Hannah upstairs and put her to bed on her tiny air mattress.  She was asleep in no time.  I checked on Addie again, who was also sound asleep, before going back to the disaster zone.

I sprayed and scrubbed a few more times, and made a very impressive dent on the new roll of paper towels.  Luckily, Aunt Jane buys the expensive Viva paper towels, and I was able to thoroughly scrub the stench and mark away.  I put everything into the plastic bag and tied it.  Tightly.  I wanted to get the smell out of the house, and decided just to put it on the back deck.  When Uncle John got home, I would ask him where the outside trash can was.  I opened the door to the deck and saw a dirty diaper sitting on the ground, right where I was about to put the bag.  Apparently, I wasn’t the first one to try this trick.  

I locked the door and headed back downstairs to watch grown up television.  Honestly, I spent the next three hours watching TLC’s Bride Day, but we don’t need to harp on that.

Every once in a while I went upstairs to check on sleeping Hannalaide.  They were both asleep every time I went up.  But one time, I found this:

Hannah was sound asleep, but had fallen off of her air mattress... Kind of.  

After taking a few pictures, bad babysitter, bad babysitter, I picked her up and put her body fully on the mattress.  She was fine.

At 2 am, I heard car doors slam, laughing, a little yelling, the sound of heels, and I knew the black tie-ers were back.  And by the sounds of the laughs, yells and irregular footsteps, they were inebriated.  

Sure enough, I was barely off the couch when Christine was in my face saying, “We’ll ask Meaghan!  Meaghan!  Do you know Gotye?!”

The rest of the pizza was inhaled, the beers from the fridge were passed around and an all out dance party erupted.  Gotye’s song was first.  It was epic. 

Gosh, I love my family.  And gosh, I love Hannalaide.  But, I am not at all sad that babysitting is no longer my job.