Babysitting

Did you know the devil had a child? I met him yesterday.

I had to babysit the devil child for 5 hours last night. From 7:00pm to 12:00pm. I honestly had lost the will to live by the end. They were lucky they didn't come home to me smacking my head against the microwave untill there was a huge dent in the door.

I arived, on time, like the good little girl I am. The parents exact words were "He's been told he has to be good, or else." Or else what? They would lock him in a room untill he was 89?

So, I went into the living room and sat infront of the TV to watch waterloo road when devil child walked into the room. I asked him what he wanted (not in a "WHAT DO YOU WANT!?!" kind of way. More of a "Whats up?" kind of way.) He said he wanted to stay up for a bit longer but his parents had told me that he had to stay in bed because he had school the next day.

After I had explained that to him, I told him to go to bed. He laughed and sat on the sofa.

I told him to go to bed again, and he just said "yeah, whatever" and carryed on watching. I was a bit annoyed at this point so I told him if he didn't go to bed now, I would tell his parents.

Most normal kids who didn't have the devil as there father would jump up straight away at this threat and go to bed and not get up again. Mini-satan? Nope...

I was annoyed because I wanted to watch waterloo road and he kept on turning it to scooby-doo.

Half an hour later, I told him he really had to get to bed now. He said OK. (I almost fainted from the shock.)

I told him I would go up in 5 mins to check he was okay, so off he went.

5 mins later I went into his room and he wasn't in his room. He just wasn't there. 3 million visions came into my head of me trying to explain to his parents why I'd lost there son.

I looked everywhere. In the bathroom, bedroom, cupboards EVERYWHERE. I was close to screaming, or calling the police, or pulling my hair out. Then out came little devil boy, out of the flipping garden. He was laughing his head off like a little man witch.

I was really angry by now, so I ordered him upstairs in a sort of dictator sort of way. He went, but every time he'd been in bed for 5 mins, he would scream. I ran upstairs every time and he would be laughing. I couldn't ingore it! What if something had happened!

Babysitting sucks :(