My Short Time as
a Babysitter
by Lily Murphy
I hate
children. I think children are annoying little
creatures who excel at getting adults into
trouble.
I used to be a
child, but that was a long time ago.
I once had my
arm twisted by my friend to baby sit her kid for
a night while she went off to a Neil Diamond
concert with her partner. I never took up such an
occupation before in my life but I foolishly
decided to give it a go.
Now this
little kid I had to baby sit was verging on his
fifth birthday and I really did not want to stay
up and talk toddler gibberish with him all night
so I decided to put him to bed.
My idea was to
open a six pack and watch some late night comedy
central while he was away in dream land, but a
setback occurred: the little shit wanted me to
read him a bed time story.
Now I don’t
particularly like reading anything that’s
not on the back of a tinned can of soup or in the
TV guide, but the little bastard insisted I read
him a bed time story or else he wouldn’t go
to sleep.
What else
could I do but read a fucking bed time story!
I had a six
pack of Coors light waiting for me and them
mountains weren’t going to stay blue for
much longer so I asked him what story he would
like me to read and he produced a book of old
fairy tales, you know the stories full of
mermaids, witches and all that shit.
He asked me to
read him Little Red Riding Hood, and this is
where the night got interesting both for me and
the kid I was babysitting because I decided to
tell the tale of Red Riding Hood in 21st century
mode.
I ignored the
words on the page and began telling the story my
way. I began by stating how Red Riding Hood was
hiding out in the woods because she was wanted in
connection with the triple murder of the Billy
goats gruff.
I went on to
describe how she had a grandma who lived alone
somewhere in the woods where she grew pot and was
one of the biggest suppliers of weed in the state
of Fairyland.
I went on to
tell how Red Riding Hood had spent weeks in the
woods searching for her grandmother just so she
could organise a safe passage to South America
for her. I then I got questioned on the
whereabouts of the wolf.
I got so
carried away with building a criminal record for
Red Riding Hood and her grandma that I had
forgotten there was a fucking wolf in the story!
So I had to
reel the wolf into the tale somehow and so I told
how Red Riding Hood saw the wolf in the woods
crouched behind a big rock. I described how Red
Riding Hood approached him and bluntly remarked
on what big eyes he had, but the wolf jumped up
and ran away.
I went on to
tell how Red Riding Hood saw the wolf again, this
time crouched behind a tree. When she went up to
him and said what big teeth he had, he jumped up
again but this time he let out roar at Red Riding
Hood, ‘Will you ever fuck off I am
trying to have a shit here!’
Then he
punched her fucking lights out.
Before I could
tell the kid what Red Riding Hood’s fate was
and make up a prequel regarding her past life as
a prostitute in Amsterdam along with her cousins
Hansel and Gretel, I noticed the little guy I was
babysitting had fallen asleep.
So I went and
spent the night on the couch with my six pack of
beer and some comedy central, very satisfied with
my babysitting abilities.
Well I thought
all had gone well until the next day when I got
an angry phone call from my friend, the kid’s
mother, who wanted to know why her toddler was
talking about an old woman growing weed in the
woods, a young girl wanted for the triple murder
of goats and a wolf who gets violent when he can’t
be left alone to have a shit.
I wasn’t
asked to baby-sit again.
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