Adventures in Baby Sitting

Today

Becky was making arrangements for her babysitter. First, making sure that she and Carmen had a chance to meet, second, that the babysitter had a comfortable somewhere to sit and third, that there was a nice supper available. All right and proper and pretty standard stuff, you might say.

In My Day

When I was between fifteen and eighteen I belonged to the St John's Church Youth Club in Upper Norwood. One of the things we offered was a babysitting service. The customers had access to a pool of young people whose credentials they could trust and we earned some very useful pocket money.

Clients came in all forms. The best were those who invited you to meet the children; maybe read them a bedtime story. Then they showed you the kitchen where there would be tea and coffee, a snack or access to biscuits etc. If you were lucky you had a very comfortable evening during which you watched TV or got some "A" level work done (I think that I completed most of my theatre design coursework while babysitting) and had peacefully sleeping children.

There was one family whose idea of meeting the children first was to leave their four sons (aged between about three and nine) racketing about their very untidy and dirty house while they scooted cheerfully off. I considered it a real achievement if I could get them all in bed before the parents got home. I rarely had time for a snack and a sit down (anyway their sofas were all pretty grimy). They did pay well, though.

At another home the little baby  never stopped crying. The parents would tiptoe out, leaving baby and me to get acquainted as best we could while she screamed her poor little heart out. I guess she got to know me in the end but she still cried and I think that the parents were unwise not to give us any stress-free time together before bedtime.

I had two extreme clients. There was a couple who simply had no idea of time. "Home by eleven" could mean home by two am. I would be getting more and more anxious; had there been an accident? Dare I have a little doze on the sofa? How was I going to get up in the morning? They did pay well, but that wasn't really the point. On the final occasion that I sat for them, Daddy called at about one am, understandably worried about me. When I said that the parents weren't back he announced his intention of coming to get me. He had to walk there and twenty minutes later he turned up, frothed into a right rage. He told me to come with him. I said that I couldn't leave the children and we were still arguing when the parents breezed in. Daddy told them what he thought of them and then marched back up the hill, refusing a lift,  while I was driven home. I didn't go back there.

Much the best were the parents of little Paul. They were quite well-off and his mother used to leave out a lovely meal for me and was very friendly. They came to trust me with Paul with whom I got on famously and invited me to join a family party at Marazion in Cornwall where a ruby wedding was being celebrated. My job was to look after Paul and his little cousin when the family went out for evening jaunts. The rest of the time I was free and I took advantage of this, walking along the coast and drawing pictures of local objects and  St Michael's Mount. The cousin cried rather a lot when she was with me, but she was very young and we hadn't been introduced, but otherwise it was a very enjoyable salaried holiday.

I was completely untrained and these families trusted me with their little ones. Whether this was a tribute to my reliability or a comment on their difficulties with childcare I can't say.