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The babysitter from hell

The Babysitter from Hell

Mammy was wearing her new black dress.
She was meeting her boss, and out to impress.
“Be sure to put the baby to bed,
by half-past-seven” (to the sitter) she said.

She gave me a kiss, then left me alone,
with the sitter, whose ear was stuck to the phone.
Kate had sat with me twice before,
she’d come recommended by the family next door.

She always began with a telephone call,
to her mother, her friend, and a boy named Paul.
I heard her blow kisses, and tell him to hurry,
with six poppadoms and a double prawn curry.

Paul rang the bell, a little while later,
with the curry, and a video wrapped in brown paper.
I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep,
but now and again, I took the odd peep.

The film was of people without any clothes,
rolling about in the funniest pose.
Then Kate poured a couple of glasses of brandy
(and they both knocked it back as if it was shandy!)

They lit up dad’s fags, and emptied the packet,
and turned up the hi-fi to full-blasting racket.
Soon after, their own clothes were strewn on the floor,
and I thought I heard mammy’s key in the door.

Paul jumped up, and used his hand,
to cover those parts not now in demand,
as mammy, stood side by side with her boss,
watching in horror, perceiving the cost.

She’d hoped that tonight, she’d get that promotion,
but now, she’d have to give up that notion.
Her boss would surely not entertain
an employee who ran a house of disdain.

However, a lucky twist in this tale,
was that Kate looked up at the boss, turning pale.
“Dad!” she said, “What are you doing here?”

“I think I should be asking the questions, my dear!”
And with that, he marched her straight out the door,
collecting the clothes that were covering the floor,
and surely enough, the next day at work,
my mam got the news from her boss, Mr. Kirk :

“Congratulations, you’re now Head of section,
with company car, and a whopping great pension.
So can we forget about Kate’s ‘night of sleaze’
and may we have the video back, please?”

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Tags

poem, humour, promotion, babysitter, margaret sanderson, teenage lust, evening out

I’m a self-taught artist from the North of England and I like to inject a bit of humour wherever possible, whether it’s in my writing (see my poems), or my artwork.
Thanks for stopping by and please feel free to leave comments on any pieces you like.

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