Babysitting

I used to love babysitting.

When I was a teenager, I babysat my neighbors all the time. I got paid really, really well, too, which didn’t hurt. And I loved kids so to me, it was paid playtime.

But now I’m an adult, and while I still love babysitters, I’m a little less in love with babysitting, especially since everyone I’m surrounded by is way too old to be babysat.

Like when I’m sitting in my house and the Princess got up early to go to swim practice, but her camp friend is still here sleeping. Do I wake her for breakfast? Lunch? Do I leave her alone or suggest she might want to do something?

Like when Banana Girl has all of her friends over and I wait around because I’m not a fan of kids being completely un-chaperoned (even though they’re good kids and old enough to be on their own).

Like when the adults around me need someone to knock their heads together so they act like grownups.

Like when school vacation is not actually a vacation for me, yet everyone around me is taking one (formally or informally) and wonders why I’m cranky about not being able to get my work done.

Like when everyone wants to make plans, but no one actually makes them, and then wonders why I can’t give them an answer when they ask me what the plans are.

I don’t know what the going rate for babysitting is, but I used to make $10 an hour. Pretty sure no one who knows me can afford my rates.