After Trashman Babysat My Kids for 25 Minutes, I Decided to Hire Him as Full-Time Nanny — Story of the Day

A doctor was called for an emergency at the hospital and didn’t have anyone to leave her three kids with, but suddenly, she saw the garbageman and got an idea. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she returned home.

“Now? Are you sure Dr. Morris is not available?” I asked Nurse Carey on the phone, although I was already changing my clothes and thinking hard.

“No, Dr. Sanders. Dr. Morris is currently driving across state lines trying to get here. You live close by, so I thought I would call. The interns have no idea what they’re doing. I know it’s your day off, but I didn’t know what else to do. Will you be able to come?” Nurse Carey said, trying not to sound worried, but I knew they needed me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just need to find a babysitter,” I replied and hung up, immediately dialing Vicky, who was the only person who could somewhat handle my three crazy kids.

I’ve been a surgeon for a long time, but I used to have my husband, Peter. My rock. He became a stay-at-home dad when the realities of having three children became too much. But he passed away from a sudden heart attack while I was in the middle of another surgery.

My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be.

Now, I had to constantly find babysitters for the children when unexpected emergencies happened. I couldn’t handle them. I had no patience, and it was silly to think that any babysitter would be able to handle them either. Two babysitters quit after one day of work, and word got around that my kids Johnny, 9, Christie, 7, and Lucy, 3, were menaces.

I mean… they were not wrong. But they didn’t have to put me in this position. Now, only Vicky ever said yes. Usually, I paid through the roof for the local daycare center when I was scheduled regularly at work, but I couldn’t rush them in today. It was already noon on a Friday, and I would feel bad sending them.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry, Opal. I can’t babysit today. I’m sick and can barely move,” Vicky said when I called. I told her to get some rest and hung up the phone. I hated the staff at the hospital daycare, and they hated me in return. But I was out of ideas. I would have to wrangle with my children and go there.

But suddenly, I heard all the kids yelling, “Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!”

I sighed. They didn’t have an uncle. The local garbageman was so friendly and sweet that they started calling him uncle as soon as they could speak. I had known him for over ten years, and my kids adored him.

Johnny opened the front door, and all my babies went outside to greet him. I might have to call the hospital, I thought. I was never going to get those kids back into the house to be dressed on time.

But I did smile at the sight of them playing with Bob. My kids had turned into devils when their father died. The therapist said it was normal and would pass, but I wasn’t so sure. I felt like a failure. Like my mothering instincts were faulty or something. I didn’t know what to do.

But as I watched the kids hug and ask Uncle Bob to play, I had an idea. “That’s it,” I told myself and ran to Bob.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Bob, I have a crazy request. I know you’re busy. But I was wondering if you would babysit my kids for 25 minutes. I have to check something urgent at the hospital, and I have no one else,” I begged, and my kids looked at me with wide eyes filled with happiness.

“Sure, Dr. Sanders. I can watch them for a while,” he replied, nodding and smiling. My children jumped and cheered.

“They’re more than a handful, though. I’m warning you,” I said sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. You go ahead. Your job is important,” he told me, and I ran off, hoping my house would not be entirely destroyed by the time I returned.

The situation took more than 25 minutes, as Dr. Morris got stuck in traffic, and the patient became even more urgent. I was rushed into an operating room, and I couldn’t get away until three hours later. I felt so bad for Bob, who obviously had his own work to finish.

I drove home as quickly as I could. “Bob! Bob! I’m sorry!” I yelled breathlessly as I opened my door, but I froze.

My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be. My house was always littered with toys, crayons, paper, and sometimes smears of peanut butter. I know. Gross. Don’t judge me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Dr. Sanders, how was your surgery? Everything alright?” Bob asked as he appeared from the hallway.

“What happened here? My house… is unrecognizable. And why aren’t the kids screaming and running around?” I asked, so confused and shocked.

“Lucy is napping, and Christie and Johnny are in their rooms, reading,” he told me, and I swear, my jaw hit the floor.

“What? Are you kidding me?”

“No, go see.”

I had to go, and my eyes couldn’t believe it either. But Bob had told me the truth. “How did you do this?”

“Oh, Dr. Sanders. I was a single father raising kids once. Mine were ten times worse than these three angels,” Bob laughed. “I taught them to pick up after themselves and narrated them fairy tales. Your kids ate that up. You might want to buy them more books.”

I nodded, starstruck. No one in my life had ever called my kids “angels,” and they had never been interested in the few books I got. “I can’t believe it,” I whispered.

“It was easy. But now I have to go,” Bob said, picking up his work jacket from the back of a chair.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pe

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry about being late. I’m so embarrassed,” I said, touching my forehead. “I’ll pay you triple for that.”

“No. No. I don’t need money,” Bob shook his head, raising his hands.

“Please. For your time,” I insisted with my stern look. People at the hospital were afraid of that look, so I knew Bob would not be able to reject the money.

“Ok, I’ll treat the kids to something nice,” he laughed. “Goodbye, Dr. Sanders. Have a nice day!”

“Thank you!” I yelled out, exhausted.

***

My kids behaved for the rest of the day, and I almost cried. It was the best day ever.

So, I called Bob and offered him a full-time nanny job, tripling his current salary and adding more health benefits since I had connections at the hospital. He accepted in the end, and I was so thankful that I gave him a Christmas bonus and plane tickets to his family could visit Disneyland in California later that year.

The Body Part You Wash First While Bathing Reveals Your Personality

Ever consider how your showering habits can disclose some of your deepest secrets? It’s accurate! According to scientific theories, what you wash in the shower first can reveal a lot about your personality. It seems like a scene from a psychic’s script, don’t you think? So grab a seat, for this insight will clear your doubts and leave you feeling uncannily accurate.

Get a loofah out of curiosity or giggle until you cry because what you do in the first few minutes of taking a shower says a lot. Let’s explore this soap opera and see what your approach to taking showers says about you.

1. If you initially wash your hair

Oh, those who prioritize their hair! What’s wrong with you? If you wash your hair right away, you’re probably a control freak who gets upset by even the tiniest hairstyling. Isn’t it the “my way or the highway” mentality you possess? Your life’s shampoo and conditioner are order and discipline, and to be honest, you probably give up bubble baths in favor of timeliness. When choosing companions, you put intelligence above strength because, let’s face it, no one wants to stick around with a knucklehead.

2. If you first wash your chest

Washers who put their chests first are showing off their skills with assurance. In a group of betas, you’re the alpha. You speak the truth; I won’t put you through any sly tricks. Feeling at ease in your own flesh? You have plenty of comfort, I see! Your confidence in yourself and your short-term objectives is almost irritating, as though having second thoughts is a crime.

3. If you initially wash your underarms

Armpit enthusiasts, you are the people that everyone wants to be around during a party or emergency. You exude dependability and empathy. Because you love without limits, friends come swarming to you. Your universe is dominated by black-and-white thinking: there is either complete scorn or great devotion. Reasonable tones of gray? Not for you, haha!

4. If you cleanse your face firsts

Oh boy, you’ve got your vanity on full display, face-first washers! Immediately catering to all five senses demonstrates a near-obsession with one’s own appearance. Too anxious? Indeed! As though your soul depended on it, you’re anxious about remarks and criticism. Unwind—no one is paying that much attention. Could you perhaps quit glancing at your mirror in every puddle?

Don’t waste time fretting about a terrible hair day ever again since life is too short!

5. If you first wash your neck and shoulders

People with necks and shoulders, you overachievers! Cleaning here first indicates that you’re successfully hunting as if this were your main food source. Your objectives seem heavy to you, and to be honest, it’s making you feel like Herculean lifters. You adore being the center of attention in every circumstance and are fiercely competitive. Here’s a secret: you’re doing such a great job carrying that weight that it hardly shows.

6. If you initially wash your legs or arms

Arms and legs? You are the salt of the earth, after all, aren’t you? You are, on the one hand, as modest and grounded as a monk in zen mode. Conversely, you are displaying your limbs as though they were banners of power and rebellion. The only thing that can match your determination and willpower are your extreme dislike and intense affection for an object. I’m happy to have you join the human contradictions team!

7. If you initially wash your underwear

Do you still grit your teeth? Cleaning your underwear first makes you seem like the bashful one—possibly a capital-I introvert. Even though you’re not the light of the party, people who connect with you find you to be quite sincere. socially disregarded? Perhaps. A jewel that’s hidden? Without a doubt. You find it difficult to stand up for yourself, yet everyone in your immediate circle benefits from your warmth.

8. Alternative

You are the “other” parts washer, the wild card. Are you not complex? It’s as though you’ve mixed up a secret recipe for mayhem and kindness. You’re a stand-up guy at heart, maybe even interesting. It’s time to start living a little more boldly, embrace unpredictability, and flaunt your individual flare. And who knows, your perfect mate? Seek for someone who worries about their appearance as much as you do about appearing erratic. A union made in heaven, indeed!

There you have it, then. Even something as easy as cleaning up can reveal a lot about who you are! One scrape at a time, who would have thought that those soothing minutes under the mist could strip you of your secrets and expose your soul? Maybe consider your priority list the next time you take a shower. Happy cleaning until then!

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