I’m going to try my hand at story with a take-home message. Actually, three take-home messages. There are probably more. Before I start let me say that the names have been changed to protect both the guilty and the innocent, and I harbor no ill will towards any of the parties involved. Honest.
So, we have a 14 year old daughter. I know I’m her mother, but the record still has to show that she is a very cute girl. She has long dark hair, a tiny little figure, and the bluest eyes and longest lashes you will ever see.
Friday night she had a babysitting job for a family with three young boys who live just around the corner. Off she went and her dad and I went out to dinner. When we got home, there were four teenage boys just walking up to our house. One asked if our daughter was home. I said no, that she was babysitting at the Smith’s house. Yes, this was a mistake on my part.
We decided to take an after-dinner walk and as we rounded the corner we saw those boys walking in the Smith’s front door. Naturally we went to investigate. One of the boys saw us and by the time we got there the place resembled a meth house when the SWAT team arrives. We saw one boy jump over the back fence, another ran out the front door, one sauntered out whistling Dixie, and one (let’s call him John) held his ground.
Now you have to know that John has always been my favorite, and I have to admire his fortitude, if not his chutzpa. I entered the house to check on my daughter and her charges while my husband had a little chat with John. My daughter insisted that they had just walked into the house without knocking, and the little boys confirmed it. Having said that, I’m not convinced their visit was entirely unwelcome on her part. However, her tears were real and after I got her mopped up, I joined my husband out front.
My husband was shaking his head. He had told John it wasn’t acceptable for the boys to be there while our daughter was babysitting. John replied that it was none of my husband’s business what the boys did.
Well, call me old-fashioned, but I beg to differ. So did my husband. So did John’s father when my husband paid him a call. A few minutes later we got a phone call from John apologizing for his actions and his words. Thank goodness for good parents. In fact, that is the real moral of my story. Boys will be boys, girls will be girls, and we need parents to be parents.
But I also have three take-home messages for the kids, although they will probably never read this. A - although it is true we live in the safest neighborhood in America and nothing remotely dangerous will ever happen here (obscure reference to “Home Alone”), it is still a good idea to lock the door when you are baby sitting. 2 - employers generally frown on their employees socializing during working hours. D - although I’m not sure that John has any romantic interest in my daughter, some day he will have interest in someone’s daughter and the wooing will go better if he doesn’t tick off her dad.
