I had to make some radical changes once I moved in with Theo and Jessie.
Theo, still despondent, is basically a shut-in and plays World of Warcraft non-stop.
Jessie is going to class, sleeping with her professor and apparently some other guy with dreadlocks.
Swear to God, dreadlocks freak me out. They are especially bad on skinny white guys. It’s like his head is just coated with ropes of filth.
I eventually told her that dreadlocks couldn’t come over anymore.
Also, I’ve been doing some major yard work, but just in the front. Three different neighbors have personally come over and thanked me for fixing the place up. In fact, I’ve gotten fairly chummy with a few of them.
Last week I’m sitting at home. The door bell rings. Jessie answers the door. I’m not paying attention (big fucking mistake).
The door closes. Jessie then tells me:
“Hey, the guy across the street needs you to watch his kids for a couple of hours tonight. He’s got a business dinner and his wife is out of town. I’d told him you’d be ready at 6.”
“Wait, you did what?”
“You’re baby sitting for real now,” she said, smirking.
“We can’t have kids over here with Smokey the Bear half naked playing on the computer.”
“I know. That’s why you’re going over there.”
Seriously, I hate kids and I don’t even know this guy’s name. I kept notes on my nanny duties:
1) The kids just fought over who gets to give me one of daddy’s beers.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll drink two. You guys can take turns getting me beer.”
Now they are crying cause there was only one left. So off to the convenience store we go. Apparently, when you are 4 and 8 it’s pretty cool to get to ride in the front seat of a car.
2) The kids got hungry so I made them bowls of pretzels with BBQ sauce on top. They have now each had three bowls of what I tell them is “Cowboy Cereal.” I’m trying to finish this sixer of Natty Light tall boys as fast as I can.
3) The 8-year-old girl just told me that a bowl of pretzels coated with Stubbs BBQ sauce ain’t healthy. Says her teacher told her to always eat healthy. She’s got a picture of her teacher on the counter. The beast must weigh 250 pounds. She wants a salad. The boy wants his mom. I want… Taco Bell.
4) This Taco Bell keeps it classy with the cool sounds of Coldplay. I bet Gwyneth gets all hot ‘n bothered knowing her man’s muzac is rocking a Taco Bell
5) Cuz I’m aces at taking care of kids, I tell them we are eating inside the store. That way, when one of them spills their jumbo soda I can pretend not to notice. BOSS
6) Yep, the 4-year-old boy just spilled his entire drink on the floor. Now he keeps telling the elderly cashier to come mop up his Mountain Dew. I’ve also been told several times that mommy “never” lets them have Mountain Dew.
7) The beers are really kicking in now. I think I’m a little more than buzzing. Maybe the kids and I need to leave the car here and walk home.
8) What the hell? You let yer 4-year-old boy go to the bathroom by himself and he comes out drinking some strange soda he found by the toilet. I’d take it away but that cup is filthy
9) I’m too drunk to walk home with the kids so I’m letting the girl drive. Kid has gotta learn sometime, right?
10) The dad is finally here. The kids are totally wired from all that soda and the boy has lettuce in his hair. I want to go home but Jessie let the damn dreadlocks guy in the house as soon as I left. Now I’m having to talk to the dad. Thank God he’s drunker than me.
Yah, before I left I made him pay for this:
“Woah, they ate all that?”
“No, some of it wound up on the floor.”
I still don’t know any of their names.