Janey Webster, E.B.* (Experienced Babysitter) by Kate Collins

Author:Kate Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, babysitting, babysitter, teenage girl, humor childrens
Publisher: Kate Collins

*****

JANEY BABYSITS THE MAYOR'S KIDS

"Janey! I just heard the news!" Susan shrieked, as she bounded down the school hallway toward me.

"Calm down!" I told her, ignoring the curious stares from my fellow classmates. "It's just a routine babysitting job."

"Babysitting for the Mayor's children is not routine!" Susan exclaimed.

"Kids are kids," I said.

"As soon as you get home from their house Saturday night," Susan said, "call me. I want to know all about their kids, and most importantly, their refrigerator."

"Their refrigerator?"

"Yes, you know," she explained impatiently, "their food stuff, snacks, brand of ice cream. I want to know what the Mayor's kids eat."

Susan knows what her priorities are.

"What if it's late when I get home?" I asked.

"I don't care," she said. "Wake me up."

"I don't think your parents would appreciate that," I said.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Why should I be nervous?"

"What if one of the kids gets sick?" she asked. "What if their mansion catches fire? What if the President of the United States calls? What if - ?"

"I'm getting nervous," I said.

"You? Nervous? You really should do something with your hair before Saturday. It's too straight." Susan gave her blond curls a pat and left.

"Hi. I'm Janey Webster," I began nervously the next Saturday evening. "I'm your babysitter."

"Hi, Janey," said the tall, balding man who answered the door. "I'm Bill Johnson. Come in." He led me into the warm, spacious foyer of his home and helped me out of my jean jacket. I made a note to tell Susan that he did not live in a mansion. An elegantly dressed lady approached me from the opposite end of the hall.

"Hello, Janey," she said, smiling. "Come meet the kids."

I followed her past a large kitchen into a family room with a soaring cathedral ceiling. I almost didn't notice the two children sitting in front of the TV at the far end of the room.

"Matthew, Laura," she called. "Meet Janey, your babysitter."

The kids glanced at me over their shoulders, then turned back to their program.

Mrs. Johnson sighed. "When they're watching TV, they can shut out everything else," she explained. "Have them in bed at eight o'clock. Snacks are to be eaten in the kitchen."

"Do you have a list of emergency numbers?" I asked.

She pointed toward the kitchen. "Right next to the phone."

After they had gone, I sat down on a buttery-soft leather chair. "Anyone want to play a game?"

Matt, a boy of about seven, shrugged and kept watching. Laura jumped off the sofa and raced over to my chair, her brown pony-tails bobbing.

"Hi, Laura," I said.

"Hi," she replied breathlessly, then climbed into the chair beside me and hid her eyes against my shoulder.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Four," she replied.

"What are you watching?" I asked.

"The Wizard of Oz," she said.

"Do you want to play a game?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "I'm going back as soon as the scary part is over. I'm afraid of the lion."

A few minutes later, a white-and-brown cat strolled into the room and wound around Laura’s legs.

"Get away, Pie," Laura called.

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