Cody Schmitz' February Blog

The Babysitter

     Back in the late 90’s when I was about 5 or 6, my brother and I received periodic visits from a babysitter whenever my parents needed to get out of the house. This sitter was in high school at the time, a junior or senior, and if my memory is correct, had the curliest hair of any human I’ve yet to meet. This teenager also had to be the strictest sitter of all. Maybe it was just my imagination, but she ran our house like a prison. No T.V., no video games… no anything! It was terrible! For hours at a time we would sit in our living room bored to death while this girl (we’ll call her Sara) would sit and read the one novel she never seemed to finish. Even though Sara was perpetually terrible, I developed very strong feelings for her over the months she was with us. I longed to be around her while she yelled at us for things we didn’t do. I would watch her read for what seemed like hours (which isn’t creepy, because I was under age 10). One evening when my parents were out, the three of us started up our same ritual in the living room; she read and we watched. After a while, Sara decided it was time for me to go to bed. If I remember correctly, it was about 6:00. Six! So she sent me upstairs pouting while my brother got to stay and watch her read. It was at that moment, while secretly peering over the staircase railing, that I decided High School Sara was in love with my 10-year-old brother. Jealousy coursed through my veins as I looked at the two sitting in complete silence; I could almost taste the chemistry! At once, I got up and did what any man should do when he loses a woman. I cried. For what seemed like no reason, I sobbed for hours while Sara did little to console me. Not that I wanted her consolation anyways. Who was she, thinking she could go after my brother then just come back to me? It took until my parents came home for me to calm down, and I glared at Sara as she left our house for the night. I don’t remember if Sara ever babysat us again, but it was wise of her if she decided not to. Who knows what I would have done next; jealousy works in mysterious ways.