Babysitting Blues

Note: All the names have been changed.

‘I want an Ice cream!!’ my five year old cousin, Dexter, very brutally pulled on my arm, and shouted in my ear.
‘I just gave you one, where is it? Surely, you haven’t eaten it yet?’ I asked him, shrugging him off me.
‘I dropped it,’ he gave me a puppy dog look. I sighed and gave him mine. I didn’t want to (I love mango tango) but I was sure we didn’t have any left. I watched Dexter as he licked it, and after few yucky big bites, he handed me Mango Tango back. Saying that I can eat it now. Don’t worry, I didn’t eat it. I’m not that greedy.

Anyways

Picture this: It’s a second day of Eid. You’re at your Grandpa’s place. Dressed in your Eid clothes (which, I assure you, are very very uncomfortable, as it was selected by my mum…and the dress has sequins and all that silly stuff on it…itchy...itchy…itchy!!) . Your aunts (I’ve seven) and your mum are having fun in the next room. You can hear them laughing, gossiping and eating (I couldn’t ‘hear’ them eating, but they were having tea). You’re babysitting 9 devilish evil children all by yourself. Your brothers are supposed to help you, but they’ve run away with your totally spun older cousins...and you’re stuck. All alone. Screams. And wait, what’s that? Yeah, your friends texting you to come and join the party. Jealous! And those texts by Him. You’re flattered that Him remembers you, but you can’t even reply properly. And oops, here goes your mobile in 2 years old Bubbles hands. Click. Click. Click. Pictures are being taken. Horrible pictures! You’re hoping that she hasn’t accidentally mms those pictures to someone. All very suddenly Bubbles throws the mobile gleefully into air. You also throw yourself on the floor in attempt to catch it. You’ve caught it but also have managed to twist your ankle. You painfully (very!) get up and slump wearily into the couch. Eyeing your cousins with contempt and amusement. Wondering that you must be too like them when you were young. Annoying, snooty and messy. (By the way, I don’t think I was like them. Am too nice. So what if my parents say I was naughty as hell. Every parent thinks so). Shaggy tries to snatch your cell from you. You can’t help slapping him (cruel of me, I know) He runs to his mum crying at the top of his lungs. You feel guilty. But 9 – 1 = 8. Your cell vibrates and you smile widely when you see the text is by Him. You’re just about to read it when you cousin falls and hurts his knee. He cries loudly…he sounds like a wolf howling. His mum (your aunt) comes running in the room, picks up her children (4), gives you ‘the look’, and leaves the room. 9 – 5 = 4. Phew. Two girls in pink frilly frocks, looking angelic (looks can be deceiving) and two boys (am not gonna describe their appearance, just say they also look innocent) stare at you. You stare back, thinking what they up to? Are they thinking how to torture me? You ask yourself. And the answer is yes. An evil smile flickers across Dexter’s face. All four of them take out water guns and squirt the water at you. You let them, and now you’re wet. They run away, you’re too tired to run after them. Though, you’re seething with anger. After a while, your mum comes in and gives you a lecture. That how you should be gentle, attentive and patient towards children. You nod solemnly and promise to behave properly from now on. You mum smiles and then goes away. You’re alone. Thankfully. But still, missing the comfort of your room and of course, your worn out but comfy old blue jeans.

Terrible, right? That was how I spent my 2nd day of Eid =( but, well, it’s over now! So, cheers. And am never ever gonna baby-sit again.

I know you readers (if there is any) are making sympathetic faces. Poor girl, what luck! Well, such luck!