ever wanted to punch a 7 year-old in the face?

July 28, 2006

in my attempt to build my empire as a freelance personal assistant/spanish tutor/baby sitter/errand runner (read: whatever you'll pay me to do for you), i flyered this town a few weeks ago offering my services for dirt cheap. i call myself MOTHER's LITTLE HELPER and really feel like it will be a successful enterprise, once i get my ass in gear and really put some effort towards advertising on craig's list and mommy web lists. so far, my clients range from a little old lady that needs to be driven to the bank and grocery store once a week, to a local musician/math tutor who needs admin help and light housekeeping, to random one-time gigs. since i will have to be on bed rest the entire month of september, i've become a lot less discriminate in the jobs i'll accept so i can save some money before the birth of the beans....which leads me back to the 7 year-old from hell.

i accepted a baby-sitting gig because i was going to make $60 for just 3 hours worth of work and the lady assured me that her two year-old was really easy-going and mellow. i was to arrive at her house at 9am this morning and help her watch the kid while she ran some last minute errands before a weekend getaway. apparently, her husband is the primary bread-winner and is very busy traveling from city to city making the family millions. she is a stay-at-home mom with three children (ages 9, 7, and 2), and they live in a huge (but boring and generic) house in west lake hills--a wealthy suburb of austin. as soon as i saw the house, while parking in the enormous driveway, i immediately regretted my choice of attire which exposed both the tattoo on my arm as well as my hairy armpits. suddenly, my $3 old navy flip flops seemed flimsier than ever and i reverted to a self-consciousness i'd left behind long ago when i moved the hell out of miami. since there was really nothing i could do about it, i gave myself a final once-over in the rearview mirror, walked up the windy steps to the massive front door, and rang the bell.

when the mom greeted me with a warm smile and an adorable toddler grinning at her hip, i was instantly relieved and a little guilty for being so prematurely defensive. the little boy really was adorable and sweet-natured and we had a lovely morning playing with his train set and reading books while the mom and the 7 year-old daughter hit the town with their errands. the shit didn't hit the fan until they got BACK from the errands and the little girl from hell suddenly wanted in on the games. one of the games she wanted us to play involved looking through her yearbook and putting people into two categories: fat and ugly or pretty princess. i really wasn't into it but was not about to lecture her on why i thought the whole idea was really fucked up so i attempted a distraction and suggested we play with some legos instead. she wasn't into that idea and immediately starting hurling some insults at me. a few choice quotes include: "were you always so fat or are you just fat because you're having two babies?" or "you really need to let me brush your hair (as she lunges towards me with a pink barbie plastic brush). you'd look a lot less fat and ugly if you brushed your hair and put on some make-up". it was really hard to keep my mouth shut at this, but i had no idea where the mom was or whether she was within ear shot so i just shot the girl a vicious look and decided to completely ignore her from here on out. the last straw was when the little turd threw herself on top of me, hitting me pretty hard on my belly, and grasping at my hair which she was DETERMINED to get her nasty little brush in. at that point, i really wanted to punch her square in the face but instead i grabbed her firmly by the arm and told her that she was not to touch me again. i really think i scared the shit out of her. she sat quietly in the corner and flipped through her yearbook for the rest of my stint there. just in case she forgot how mean and nasty i could be if i wanted to, i routinely made sure to make eye contact and shot her some "or else" looks just to make sure she kept her little mouth shut and her grubby hands to herself.