The Best Babysitter in Town Ch. 11

I was asleep when the Rooneys got home, but I don’t think for very long. The sound of the door from the garage to the kitchen woke me up, and I bounced into the kitchen as though I’d been awake the whole time. Parents like the babysitter awake the whole time even when they’re out late. My ability to look awake alert when I was really sleeping mere moments ago surely is another way I’ve come to be one of the most popular babysitters in town. A quick glance at the microwave confirmed it – I’d only been asleep about twenty minutes. It was a little after midnight.

“Hi Sally,” Mrs. Rooney greeted me. “How did everything go tonight?”

“Everything went fine. How was your date?” Mr. Rooney, of course, pleasant as he seems and hot af as he is, just nodded and smiled politely, said thank you, and walked upstairs. I sure would like to know what he makes of all this. He’d paid me three hundred dollars to babysit, diaper, and spank his twenty-year-old son. I can think of at least five things in that sentence my dad would be apoplectic about, but Mr. Rooney apparently went along with it all to the point of paying me three hundred cash cash without blinking when his wife told him to. I can’t tell if he’s out to lunch all the time and let’s her run the household however she wants, or if he’s just super shy. Maybe that’s where Gordy gets it.

“We had a good time. How was Gordy tonight? Did he behave for you?”

“He was polite and cooperative. We even managed to have a good time.”

“Did you give him a good spanking? Did he fight about his bedtime?”

“No, Mrs. Rooney,” I responded with an edge of irritation creeping into my tone. “He got his spanking, he had a good cry, we talked for a little while, he took his bath, and he went to bed on time. I actually just checked on him a little bit ago. He’s sound asleep, and his diaper will last til morning.”

At least, I thought it would. I don’t know how much twenty-year-old boys pee in their sleep or what their diapers can hold, but it sure seemed like a thick diaper. Poor thing was sleeping on his tummy too. I hoped that by morning his bottom wouldn’t hurt too much, but I suspected he’d be wincing when he sat down to breakfast. It can’t help that a wet nighttime diaper must tenderize his bottom a little.

“Good. I knew you’d be able to handle him,” she said, seeming so satisfied with herself.

“I didn’t have to handle him at all. He cooperated with everything. He really is a very good boy.”

“I know he is, but when we’ve given him a little slack in the past, he’s really had problems.”

What I wanted to say, but didn’t, was of course he has problems! Maybe not the kind she was talking about, but if he really did have problems motivating himself or behaving himself, then it was because they never gave him a chance to. Punishment is external motivation, and people need internal motivation if they’re ever going to be able to get themselves to do things they don’t want to but have to anyway. External motivation only works when it’s there, and it always goes away eventually. Internal motivation may wax and wane, but it’s always there. If every time in his life he’s stepped out of line or didn’t do his homework he ended up over her knee, how was he supposed to develop his own motivation? Bad stepparent and crazy(!) person!

“You know,” I said, “I really don’t appreciate the way you went about this. Gordon told me he was okay with it, or I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Well …”

Mmm-mmm. “I came this close to taking him to my house and calling the cops on you, but he said he was okay with … whatever you call this arrangement.”

“Good; I’m glad you had that talk. I wouldn’t handle Gordy the way I do if he didn’t agree to it and I didn’t think it helped him. I’m sorry if I misled you.”

If? She misled me, but all I said back was, “Good.”

“Will you watch him again?”

“Yes. I like Gordy. He’s sweet.”

“I’m glad to hear that. He needs some good influences in his life, and more friends.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be going home.”

“Thank you again, and have a nice rest of your weekend.”

We headed toward the door, and when I had one foot outside, she said, “Ya know, we’re taking a long weekend next month. Gordy doesn’t really wanna go, but he doesn’t like being home alone that long. I’d send him to my sister’s, but that’s so much extra work for her and she might go with us anyway. Would you be interested in watching him for four days?”

“Does he really not like being home alone, or do you not like him being home alone?”

“He hates it. He can’t live at home forever, so he has to get used to it, but indulging him for one weekend won’t hurt him.”

“If he wants to, yeah, I’d be happy to.”

“Let’s plan on it then.”

“You know what my rate is for an overnight, right?”

“Not a problem.”

Freaking jackpot! Just how much money do they have? “Okay. Send me the dates tomorrow.”

The next day, I texted Gordy to see how he was doing. He said he was good, and that he had fun with me except for the punishment part. His stepmom was satisfied with the job I’d done on his butt, thankfully cuz I didn’t want him to get spanked again just because I didn’t do a good job. Poor little lamb.

He was excited about our long weekend. I’m sure he was. If he got an HJ the first time, I’m sure his virgin mind was running wild thinking he might score if he had four whole days with me. I promised to see him on campus that week.

It occurred to me to be worried Mrs. Rooney would spread it all over that I’m the go-to babysitter if you need a strict disciplinarian, and that just wouldn’t be true. I’d never do what I’d done to anyone but Gordy … or some other adult who consented to it, I guess. Learned a little something about myself while he was over my lap, and I planned to do some one-handed ‘research’ on that just as soon as I got my homework done Saturday.

But Mrs. Rooney couldn’t go telling others about what was going on in her house, so I could least rest easy that my reputation as the best babysitter in town was intact.