I had probably babysat for this little boy once, maybe twice. He was an adorable baby; huge blue eyes and a shock of dark curly hair. He was an easy baby, a joy to watch, and I really, really wanted the parents to keep hiring me.
In an effort to make a good impression I showed up a few minutes early, and, again in an effort to make a good impression instead of sitting quietly on the couch, waiting for the parents to leave, I called to the little boy so I could start playing with him right away.
On my honor, after I called out to him his mother called back from her bedroom, “He’s in here!”
Seriously, what would you have done? I took that to mean “He’s in here, come and get him.”
I was wrong.
She must have heard my footsteps because I heard her scramble. I think I knew before going into the room that I was making a huge mistake, but I remember not being able to stop and turn back. The door was wide open and I stepped into the room, still prattling some nonsense directed at the baby.
And there she was. 100% in the buff. Clutching her little boy to her front in the hopes that his tiny body would somewhat shield her from my eyes. Let’s just say that he was really small, and not so good as a cover up.
I blushed from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes and backed out of the room spouting off repeated apologies and hurried to go sit on the couch that should have been my original destination. Minutes later she walked out, fully dressed, and handed me her adorable son. She walked me through the routine instructions and we did our best to not make eye contact for the rest of the evening.
She never mentioned the incident. I never mentioned the incident. And I went on to babysit for them for years, so clearly she forgave me. But that was almost 18 years ago and I still remember every single painful slow-mo second of that moment when I realized I was about to walk in on my naked employer and I was powerless to stop or turn around before seeing more than I was every supposed to see.
That memory is almost as painful as the time years later when I broke that same little boy’s tooth while giving him a bath, but that’s a whole other story.
I was overwhelmed by the response to my last post on embarrassment. I blush every time I think of how my loyal readers rushed to defend me. Then, the author of the email I was so embarrassed about left a comment… and well, I swooned. Nothing makes a blogger happier than when readers show their love, unless it’s being able to spark a little controversy.
I rode that high and somewhere along the way I inadvertently agreed to blog about the naked babysitting story I mentioned at the start of that post. Sharing it was the least I could do for my awesome readers! Of course, since y’all are insatiable, I bet you’re going to want to know the broken tooth story next!