Married to a Pretzel

The last few weeks, I have been looking for a weekend job to pay for all my expenses. Gas isn't cheap these days, and for a full time high school student, money isn't easy to come by. My parents make me pay for anything they wouldn't consider a necessity. Hence why I need the job. But here's the thing- no one wants to hire an inexperienced teenager, no matter how awesome I am. There is one job though, where your boss actually prefers if you are a teenager, and you know what that job is? Babysitting.

As I am sitting here writing this blog, I happen to be babysitting an eight year old (an eight year old who just read that last sentence and said she isn't eight, but seven and three quarters). I asked her what I should blog about, and she responded, "Me!" Where to begin...

I asked her to make a list of the things she liked most about me, and which things she didn't like so much about me. So here goes nothing.

She thinks my blog should be called "The Big Things" not "The Little Things." In her eyes, kids would be more attracted to a Big thing, such as they are at Christmas time. Every kid I know locks in on the biggest present under the Christmas tree, and completely ignores the little presents. Therefore, my blog is, to her, the little present long forgotten.

I'm the best babysitter ever! Her words not mine (although I do have to agree with them). Apparently if you act like a big kid, kids will like you better. Just getting the kid to laugh makes my job worthwhile. Personally, I think kids want to be just like me someday (because of how awesome I am, of course).

Boys are Gross! She made me pinky swear boys were gross after flipping through the pages of my yearbook. Second graders think boys have cooties. So I've been told, by a second grader, I'm not allowed to be with a boy "because then you will get cooties and I can't have a babysitter with boy cooties." Well that takes care of that!

Since I'm not allowed to be around boys, she has decided I will be married to a pretzel. She has just taken "arranged marriage" to a whole new level. Pretzels are a great after-school snack, so great in fact that they are good enough to marry! Apparently it's better to marry a pretzel rather than marry a man. Times have really changed, haven't they?

No matter what job I end up getting, babysitting will always be my first. I have learned so much, and experienced so many things you wouldn’t ordinarily get to practice in another work environment. I mean, who else can say they married a pretzel while on duty?

 

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