Stop Scaring the New Babysitter!

Last night, my friend, Katie, came over for dinner. She has graciously agreed to babysit for me Saturday night while I go to a friend's birthday party and I wanted her to get to know the kids a bit before then. Right on cue, Lucy and Ben began frothing at the mouth and behaving like raving lunatics. Maybe I should have hired a couple of normal kids for the night to put her at ease. It would have been classic “bait and switch,” but since I’m paying her I don’t think the Better Business Bureau would care.


Before our guest arrived, Ben made a list of cast members of a new Nickelodeon show in order from weirdest to “normalest.” When Katie arrived, we started the evening by watching the show and voting on Ben’s assessment of the characters’ weirdness levels. While this is a perfectly normal pursuit in the Heagler house, Katie’s, “You want me to rank what?” clued me in to the fact that it might seem a bit strange to those outside our world. But she played along like a champ.

Later, while the kids were setting the table, Lucy said loudly to Ben, “There’s cat barf under the table! Katie shouldn’t sit by the cat barf.” I think I saw Katie flinch, but she kept the smile on her face.

In the middle of dinner, Ben randomly asked our guest, “Wanna see me make a pencil floppy?” to which she replied, “Not in the middle of dinner, thanks.” Fair enough.

Next came the alphabetical improv game:

Ben:  Everyone, meet my sister, Butthead.

Lori:  For real?

Katie:  Gosh, is that really her name?

Lucy:  Heck no.

Ben:  I love pie.

And on and on. Want to play?

When Lucy was done eating, she announced she was melting and slid slowly out of her chair and under the table where she remained for an extended period of time. I think Katie found my complete failure to acknowledge this behavior a bit strange. Not having kids, she has no idea of the bizarre antics parents blatantly ignore on a regular basis. A child setting up shop under the table with cat barf doesn’t even register on my odd behavior meter.

After dinner, during a conversation having absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with movies or awards of any kind, Ben blurted out, “The 80th Academy Awards had the lowest viewership of any in the history of the Academy Awards.” Good to know. Katie snickered, but maintained her composure.

Next, determined to get back “on topic,” Ben embarrassed Lucy horribly by telling a story she did not want told causing her to run to her room sobbing dramatically. When I managed to talk her out of room, she came downstairs, covered herself completely in a blanket and curled up in a tiny ball on the floor. When I finally coaxed her out of her cocoon, she announced she would be touching me at all times in some way for the remainder of the evening. This was mostly accomplished by draping herself on me like a monkey, but when I did manage to dislodge her a few minutes at a time she would follow me around holding a finger on my stomach, getting tangled precariously in my feet, threatening to knock us both over at any moment.

Eventually I resorted to man-handling her in a wild, WWF-style tickle-fest, hoping it would take her mind off her embarrassment (and her goal of touching me at all times for the rest of the night). She was giggling wildly and starting to loosen up when she stopped cold, mid-squeal and deadpanned, “Show me your muscles, lady.” She then insisted on seeing my biceps whereupon she kissed each one with reverence usually reserved for kissing the Pope’s ring.

Thank God Katie is over 21 and I could turn to her at this point and say, “More wine?”

At the end of the night we said our goodbyes and I wondered if there was a chance in hell Katie was coming back to babysit Saturday night. At least they didn’t ask if she wanted to play “What Tastes Terrible with Mustard,” “Guess What I’m Saying with this Orange in my Mouth,” or if she’d like to attend their next Potty Talk Summit. If she’s brave enough to come back, she has all that to look forward to.

Babysitting in the Heagler house is not for the faint of heart. Godspeed, Katie.