Leah called me late Wednesday. A last minute meeting had come up in her schedule, and she needed someone to be able to watch her two kids between 1:30 and 3:30. I had no prior commitments, so I was free to accept. The front door was going to be left unlocked, since they would be leaving about five minutes before I was scheduled to arrive. I was to walk in, make myself at home, and prepare for June to get home at 1:45, and then Roy would get home around 2:45. Super easy, right?
I got to the house alright and on time. I felt pretty good about myself. As I was getting out of the car, I developed a small case of paranoia. What if this wasn't the right house, and I just strolled right in? Talk about an awkward encounter. So I knocked lightly on the door. I waited. I knocked harder. I waited. I rang the bell. I waited. Nothing. I figured that this was the right house after all. I pushed on the handle, and pressed against the door. Nothing.
Having nothing in response to knocking was alright. Having nothing in response to opening the door was not alright. I tried again.
This did not exactly work either. I then realized that my frantic shoving against the door could make me look like a mad creeper forcing entrance into an unwilling house. Not the best appearance to be giving in a suburb with NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH signs everywhere.
Unfortunately for me, this sign describes my exact appearance and situation at that precise moment. This was not good. I immediately ceased and desisted all attempts to barge into the house, whether or not I had the owners' permission to do so. Instead, I decided to sit down and read my book on the front step. It was a GORGEOUS day, not too hot, not humid, and absolutely beautiful. I, as always, had my book with me.
As I was in the process of jutting out my tush to sit down, I was swarmed by a massive herd of bees, all of which were of one mind: DESTROY AND MANGLE THE TASHYA GIRL!
I hadn't done anything! I wasn't even pretending to be a little black rain cloud! I wasn't stealing honey! I just wanted to read! Sheesh. Pooh Bear has left a bad taste in the mouths of bees everywhere. Good thing Winnie the Pooh is so cute, or I'd be so mad at him right now.
So I just sat in the car with the door open. I was hoping that when June got home, she'd know a great way to get into the house without being a total creeper about it. She would be my ticket in! Only that didn't work, because, hey, she's like four and doesn't know how to break into houses.
My friend Shannon was the one that brought June home from school. She walked around the house with me, despite the fact that she had two children of her own in the van, and tried to help me get in. It didn't work out so well. So she invited us back to her house to play, since she lived just around the corner. And since I had no other options at that point, I took her up on that offer.
NOTE: Only the little blonde girl isn't named Alissa. She's named AlYssa. There's a difference. Alissa is a different girl from a different family that I babysit for. AlYssa is Shannon's little girl. She's cute.
We played around with bikes, hula hoops, scooters, and other little doodads until Roy got out of school. Little Alyssa does very well with the hula hoop. She definitely schooled me. She kept her body in tight and neat control. It should be noted that pathetic hip gyrations that rack the entire body do not maintain hoop levitation, but instead places it closer to the knees. Later, I was allowed to stop humiliating myself when we fetched Roy from the school. Then then debated what we should do at that point.
I was then informed by Shannon, who had called another lady, who had called the kids' dad, that the door was not in fact locked. The door was not locked? The door had a tendency to stick. You had to push really hard to open the door. I protested because I had SHOVED against the door! I was about to be ARRESTED from showing so hard against the door!
I packed up the kids and went with Shannon back over to The House With the Lousy Door. We went up to the door. I touched the door, TOUCHED it. And it swung open. Swung open at the same time as my mouth falling wide open. Seriously. That just left me feeling like a real fool. After that, I was only at their house with the kids for about 15 minutes before the job was over, and I was allowed to go home.
Later that night I got a call from Leah. She kept saying how sorry she was that they had forgotten to tell me about the Sticky Door. I just laughed it off and told her it was all good fun. She said that she was glad that I was having such a great sense of humor about it all instead of being mad.
I was glad she wasn't mad about hiring the village idiot to watch her kids. Honestly. Who can't open a door?