I took a big step Saturday night. I proposed to our babysitter. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now, but I wanted to make sure that I was ready for this kind of committment. I finally realized that if I don’t snatch her up, somebody else will and I will be forced to live a life of regret.
She’s a great babysitter—the kind that’s mature and responsible, but still young enough to tolerate excessive Spongebob exposure. She’s well-behaved and comes from a good family, but blasts Black Eyed Peas on the kitchen stereo with Christian when we’re gone and lets him eat a lot of cookie dough ice cream. As a good babysitter should. After all, I believe the babysitting experience should be just as enjoyable for the children as the parents.
As I pulled into her driveway Saturday night, the moon was bright and the stars lit the sky. I handed her some cash, payment for a night’s worth of story-reading, frozen-pizza-cooking, and tucking-in, and cleared my throat.
“Tell me what you think of this,” I said to her.
“Okay,” she said.
“I want to hire you to babysit every single weekend,” I said. The words hung in the air. “Unless you’re sick of us.”
“No, I want to,” she said looking me in the eye, “that would be great.”
So, we made a deal. One night every weekend, she’s ours! She said yes!
Of course we’re going to be cool and flexible about it. She’s allowed to see other families. I don’t necessarily want to know their names or how cute their kids are, but I understand that she still has needs. And a cell phone bill.
I can’t tell you how relieved I felt as she walked up to her doorstep. (Although, for a split second I wondered if I should have bought her a pair of sunglasses or a tube of lipgloss to commemorate the event.) The search for a sitter can be excruciating. Knowing that I can count on her one night a week has already improved my blood pressure, I’m sure.
And if this goes well, I’m thinking of proposing to the “smoothie artist” at our local Jamba Juice too…
Who would you like to propose to?
My favorite sandwich-maker at Blimpie. I hate it when I get the other guy: he doesn’t know when to say when with mustard, and always gives me green tomatoes.
I loved this post. It took me right back to being 14 when I was the most coveted baby-sitter in the ward. I was in demand! Everyone wanted me. Ladies in the ward argued over who was going to call me for Friday or Saturday. I brought treats and games – I did dishes and never charged if they were going to the temple. Ohhh to be so in demand now. (um but not necessarily for baby-sitting)
I think I want to propose to my sister. However, in addition to being weird proposing to a girl, it might be morally questionable to propose to my own sister. But we live together already … and she takes the trash out EVERY week. And weeds the yard. And pays all the bills (yes–THREE years in our house, and I have never, I REPEAT, NEVER paid a bill). She also can survive happily without talking to me every day. She thinks everything I cook is edible. And she never gives me the evil eye when I spend money outrageously or loll about uselessly on the couch while I should be doing something responsible. Oh, and I can borrow her clothes/jewelry without asking her first (although let’s just keep that between you and I, ok?). Come to think of it, I can’t figure out why someone ELSE hasn’t proposed to her yet …
I would propose to the kid at Cold Stone on Power and Baseline, Mesa AZ. For some reason, since moving to AZ, James and I have become really obsessed with Cold Stone. I love my cake batter ice cream with brownies and carmel. There is this one kid there (he usually works Friday nights) that does the best job. Just enough carmel and just enough brownie…
I proposed to the girl in my ward who cleans my house! The best thing I ever did for myself!