Man there is a lot of pee and poop in these stories! Sounds like fun, right? I’ve never babysat, so these tales are a bit foreign to me, but if this is what childcare is always like, it sounds like one of the worst jobs on the planet.
1. Cute Kid
I had a kid go to the bathroom, poop, run out with no pants (no wiping), grab my house key, and throw it in the poop. While I fished it out, he sat on the couch rubbing his butt. I used every kind of soap on that key.
When his parents got back, I waited to get paid. Then I explained things pointing to the spot on the couch and left.
I babysat for some neighbors when I lived in New Mexico. Very rich lawyers with a boy (about 8 years old, named Tyler, as in Tyler Durden, should’ve been a sign…), and a girl (about 5 years old).
Before the parents even left, the little girl was on the monkeybars in the backyard, and whipped her panties off to pee in the breeze. After the parents left, the boy let [himself] go full steam. He still peed the bed, so he was under orders to wear diapers. Refused to put them on. Refused to brush his teeth. Wanted another bedtime book, and another, and another, and another…..oh wait, he wants the book from daddy’s shelf, with the topless Polynesian girls in it….no, he doesn’t want tap water, he wants the special filtered water, he can totally taste the difference.
I figured out why the parents built their master suite 100+ ft from the children’s rooms. Found out later Tyler claimed I beat him or some nonsense like that because I made him brush his teeth. Never again.
3. Bedtime Meltdown
There was this one little [kid] who didn’t want to go to bed at bedtime. He was probably 5 or 6 and he told me that if I didn’t let him stay up and watch tv he’d tell his parents I beat him and then before I could do anything threw himself down a flight of stairs! Thank god it was a short set of stairs and he wasn’t hurt.
He kept threatening me and trying to hurt himself on purpose and I couldn’t calm him down so finally I took out my phone and told him I would record him and show his parents. This was like ten years ago and all I had was this old flip phone that didn’t even take pictures but he didn’t know that and it did the trick and he finally went to bed.
4. “My first and last foray into babysitting.”
This was my first and last foray into babysitting. I was 13 and needed a bit of extra money to pay for a weekend field trip, so babysitting, why not. I lived with my family in a large apartment complex, so there was no shortage of folks in need of a sitter. My first job was a lady across the complex, watching her 3 kids: two boys, aged 7 and 4, and a little girl aged 6.
For the first hour or so, everything was going well. We were Nerf sword fighting, playing games, we had dinner, I put in the Lion King. Easy street, I thought to myself. It was a nice evening and there was still some daylight left, so I suggested that we take a walk down to the playground. I figured I could wear [them] out so they’d be in bed by 8:30 like their mom wanted. Not 10 minutes into our little playground foray, and the little girl starts crying out of nowhere. I go up to her to ask what was wrong, and she wouldn’t say, but kept tugging on her pants. Keep in mind, she is in kindergarten and really should be speaking in complete-ish sentences, but for most of the night, she was pretty quiet. Probably just shy around someone she didn’t know.
I packed everyone up so we could go back to the apartment, thinking she just had to go to the bathroom. I take her to the restroom, only to be greeted by the rankest, foulest, baby [poop] smell the moment her pants come down. I don’t know how long she had been in this state, but judging from the sheer volume and fact that some of it had started to crust up, I’d say her pants were full of [poop] well before her mother left for the evening. It slowly became apparent that she had a problem with toilet training, as her underwear was actually a Pull-Ups diaper with “rubber” undies over it, which explains why the [poop] smell was so well contained.
I lost it. I immediately called my mom to come over to help out with this, as there was no way in hell I could watch two hyperactive boys and give this poor [poop] monster a bath/wash her clothes/etc. With my mom’s help, we got her all cleaned up. Then she got to talking. Her mom never really bothered to properly toilet train her, so she just put her in pull ups and rubber undies. She kept saying she felt like she needed to go doodie, but she didn’t want to bother asking her mom because she was busy. My mom and I had to explain to her that if she needed to go to the bathroom, she just needed to go, she didn’t need to get permission to use the bathroom in her own house. I felt so bad for her.
Needless to say, when the mom got home and the kids were all in bed, my mom let that lady have quite an earful of aggressive whispering. That was the hardest 30 bucks I’ve ever earned, and was probably what cemented my decision to not have children.
5. Only Child
A few years ago I would often babysit my 8 year old neighbour. Now, he was the prime example of an only child; he was always pretty aggressive and bratty and just generally a lot of work but he only really freaked me out one time. He had recently gotten a new pet rabbit, one day when I went over I noticed one of his rabbit’s ears was missing. When I asked what happened he looked up at me and said “I got angry.”
6. “Hyper as hell”
I babysat all through junior high and high school to make my spending money. The worst was a referral for the friends of a family I babysat for all the time. There were two twin boys who were 8, and a little girl who was just starting her toilet training.
The kids were very nice during the introductions. But it soon turned out they were hyper as hell as soon as their parents left. The boys whooped and hollered and chased each other through the house. I convinced them to play Legos or whatever in their room to quiet them down because I had to deal with the little girl who needed to potty. She kept trying to poop in her little training potty but it wasn’t happening. Then I heard the boys screaming at the top of their lungs, so I left the girl on her potty to find out why the boys were freaking out.
The boys’ bedroom had two single beds. Each boy was standing on his bed PISSING at the other one like they were having a pee pee duel. They got urine everywhere, on the walls, the carpet, the sheets and all over each other.
I’m ticked at these kids and tell them to change their clothes and strip the sheets. They just keep laughing at me and make me chase them around the house like it is a funny game to be soaked in pee.
Meanwhile the little girl (who is not wearing any pants or undies) drags her potty into the kitchen singing at the top of her lungs about how she pooped and wants me to look. When one of the boys runs through the kitchen, he accidentally overturns the potty and stuff gets all over the linoleum.
As much as I wanted to cry from utter frustration I managed to hold my temper and calm them all down enough while I cleaned up as best I could…tough when it isn’t your house and I had no idea where they kept all their cleaning supplies.
When the parents finally came home they didn’t offer any apologies for how their kids behaved or any extra tip or anything like that. Needless to say that was the first and last time I ever babysat for that family!
7. I would’ve walked out…
I babysat for a few families on my street as a preteen/teen. Word of mouth spread and a family maybe 6 streets away asked me to watch 3 kids. 3 kids seemed like a lot for not knowing them, but they said they’d only be gone a few hours.
Parents leave. Kids turn into demon spawn. 2 little boys and 1 youngest child girl. They tormented her until she was literally hiding/clinging to my legs and clothes. I turned on a movie and they were okay for a minute.
Then 1 boy gets up and pulls his pants down and literally just starts pissing in the middle of the living room (he’s totally potty trained… like 6). I freak out and start to clean it up and send the boy to his room. The other brother followed him, as they shared a room, and just sat there with him. The girl sneaks downstairs throughout all this and unbeknownst to me starts making an F5 grade mess.
After I clean the pee, I go to get them out of the boys’ room. Surprise, door is closed. Oh, and apparently locked…. the one boy is only like 3 and is crying because he can’t open it and his brother won’t let him out. The older boy is defiant and just screaming at me NO IM NOT OPENING IT. YOU’RE NOT MY MOM! I WANT MY MOMMY! We had a stand off for a few minutes before I realized the girl was gone.
Well, I wasn’t getting the boys out, so I went to get the phone and call the parents while I tried to find the girl. She pulled out ALL the toys and they were everywhere and I couldn’t find her because she was like in a pillow pile somewhere.
I don’t really have an ending to the story, but needless to say I was pretty much in tears by the time they came home. One of them drove me home and kept apologizing and hoped I’d still give them another chance. That did not happen.