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This is a question Babysitters

Dazbrilliantwhites asks: You've had them and maybe even have been one. Or maybe you were once babysat by someone who is now a notorious serial killer. Tell us your stories.

(, Thu 28 Oct 2010, 12:15)
Pages: Popular, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.


I think I misread the question.
(, Mon 1 Nov 2010, 5:38, 1 reply)
a bit too much
Since my brother and I passed the age of 20, my Mum grabs any opportunity to babysit for younger family members or neighbours. This of course is very kind, but the gesture is sometimes taken too far when she begins to demand neighbours' children having known them for little over 2 weeks.

Plus, she clearly has no idea how to entertain kids- last week I popped in to find her minding next door's 3 year old girl, and the living room redecorated with post-it notes.
(, Mon 1 Nov 2010, 1:06, Reply)
When I was really tiny, I was babysat by Phil Lynott for half an hour or so
He was married to the daughter of Leslie Crowther, who's mother was a friend and neighbour of my grandparents.
Apparently the whole family were visiting and I got left in his care for 30 mins or so when the rest went out into the garden.

Sadly i was too young to realise the awesomeness of the guy, and my grandparents are no longer with us to give me more details :~(
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 19:22, 6 replies)

I used to look after a couple of kids, and ok most of the time I would put them to bed and go raid the drinks cupboard and picture what I'd spend my money on. Well one time I went to check on them and the oldest kid wasnt in his bed. So I checked the house, like a million times, I didnt have a clue what to do. His parents would kill me! How could I even explain it? I searched over and over again. I was soooo scared. In the end I simply had to admit my failings, and get ready for a life in prison and just as I was about to phone the police the little shit jumped out from behind the curtain. To say I wasnt amused is an understatement. Didnt work for that couple much after that. Although that may have also been to do with the gradual emptying of the brandy, lol :)
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 15:57, Reply)
I was rarely babysat
as far as I can remember. Occasionally mother would let someone else look after my pod whilst she went and spawned another larva and fed it on her saliva for a few months, but that's by the by.

Anyhoo, I have on occasion been asked to babysit. When I was 18, some friends of my sister, Jane and Rob, asked me to look after their 5 year old little boy whilst they all went out for a few drinks. The deal was that I would go to their cottage in the middle of nowhere, where food, a whole 15 sky channels and Rob's collection of artistic videos for the discerning gentlemen were available for my delectation. All I had to do was let Dylan watch a bit of TV then put him to bed NO LATER than 7:30 with a bedtime story. As they lived in the middle of nowhere, they were going to phone me when they were ready to be picked up and I was going to pop the sleeping Dylan in the car and nip down to the village to pick them up. No dramas.

Dylan was a little sweetie. He watched his Thundercats video, then he had a glass of milk, then we went upstairs so he could have a wee and brush his teeth, then I tucked him up in bed and I read him TWO Thomas the Tank Engine stories. He then fell asleep like I had hit him with a rubber cosh.

Anyhoo, 3 hours later, I am watching a rather entertaining video of a girl who seemed to be very happy that two chaps had just coughed their filthy yoghurt upon her face when the phone rang.

"Alright Carrot, it's Rob. We're ready to be picked up in about 20 minutes, so can you come down to the pub?"

I replied this would be no problem, rewound the video to the correct point and stowed it in its box. I then went upstairs to get Dylan.

He wasn't in his bed.

OK, I think. He's probably gone for a wee, so I nip down the corridor to the bathroom. It's a big house, and the walls are thick so I was not particularly worried that I'd not heard him.

As I walked down the corridor to the bathroom, I saw something that made my blood turn cold. His pyjama bottoms lying in the hallway. I ran to the bathroom. Nothing there apart from an open window leading onto a flat roof sloping down to the garden.

Oh fuck, I think. He's been abducted.

Frantically I search every room in the house looking for him. No sign whatsoever. It's a 15 minute drive to the pub, so I need to find him quick or call the police. Whatever. I am so frantic I nearly lose control of my bowels. This being the age before mobile phones, I run back down to the kitchen and pick up the phone, ready to dial 999.

Now, the sloping roof from the bathroom is over the kitchen extension. As I pick up the phone, I see a flash of pink from my peripheral vision. I spin round to see a butt naked child sitting in a sandpit, with nought but a bucket and spade to his name, happily building sandcastles.

As my heart rate falls to the point where I can detect discernable beats rather than just a constant thrumming in my eardrums, I run outside, scoop him up, and run inside.

"Look Uncle Carrot" he burbles. "I builded a big huge castle wiv soldiers and guns and a moot and peoples and...."

I throw him into his pyjamas and into the car. I screech out of the driveway and down the lane. By the time I reach the pub, Dylan is asleep.

Jane, Rob and my sister stagger out of the pub and into the car. Jane is in the back next to the snoozing Dylan.

"Carrot" she enquires "why does Dylan have sandy feet?"

"Ah..." I start to respond, desperately thinking of an excuse that doesn't involve me allowing their child to take his clothes off, jump down a 6 foot drop and then start building an elaborate series of fortifications that would make the Romans proud whilst I was approaching the Billy Mill Roundabout to Bukkake Babes IV: Backdoor Sluts.

I failed in that, but Rob rescued the day.

"The little bugger's been playing in his sandpit again hasn't he? He's always doing this at night. Didn't we tell you?"

No. You didn't.

Length? Well, he was 5 and it was a bit chilly out...
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 13:37, 3 replies)
Cool sitter
When I was 14 my parents went to Egypt for a week, so they had the 18 year old daughter of a friend to look after the house for a week, the entire time was spent eating Chinese food and playing guitar hero with her friends who I got on really well with, This year she took me to Club AntiChrist in London which is a Goth/Fetish club for my 18th birthday which was loads of fun!
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 12:46, 10 replies)
Having two older brothers
I never had a babysitter.

However my two brothers were sadists. Off the top of my head I can remember they :

Chased me round the house throwing darts at me till I went head first through a glass door (got off lightly with seven stitch's in my leg).

Got me to play a game where they threw darts and I had to kick them away. Result = dart in leg an trip to hospital for a tetanus injection.

Invented a game where I hold a thin bamboo stick and try to knock away the iron rod they threw at me (missed my eye by half an inch leaving a scar that took a few years to fade away).

Regularly got one of their mates to come round for a boxing match with me. Don't know why I fell for this one as it was basically a guy four years older than me punching me in the face till I cried.

Held me down and farted on my head.

Played the spit game - one brother would sit on my chest, the other would hold my arms - then one would let out a long stringy piece of flob and let it dangle over my nose, suck it in a bit then let it out till I eventually screamed and he was able to let it drop in my mouth.

It all stopped eventually when I waited till one of them went to bed, then unearthed his secret matchbox collection and set light to it - under his bed.
I did get a beating for that but thankfully by the time they had to babysit again we had a video player and from then on we'd just watch porn or video nasties :D
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 10:46, Reply)
I have to do baby-sitting at work.
Despite my colleagues being well-qualified and able to deal with dangerously toxic substances, my supervisor (without telling me) has decided that I have to watch over them when they do any reactions to make sure they don't keel over.
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 8:59, Reply)
Not really babysitting
I looked after my nephew after his dad had a serious accident. He settled in well, and I hoped I'd be able to leave the family business to him, as my wife and I had never managed to have kids. I thought of him as a son, really. Then I bought two droids and it all went tits up.
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 2:46, 6 replies)

I never thought I'd have the opportunity to share this on QOTW as I didnt know there were so many like minded people. I too am into paraphilic infantilism and coprophilia.

Although reading some of the other replies, I feel some of you may have misunderstood the question...
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 2:25, 2 replies)

When I was 3, I climbed all over my gran's back when she had shingles. I feel terrible. She's dead now.
(, Sun 31 Oct 2010, 1:37, 1 reply)
No serial killer but
there was a woman called Mary who used to look after me from time to time. She took me to see Star Wars just after it arrived in Australia (I must have been 10 years old) and had to foxtrot about halfway through because her period started.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 23:56, 2 replies)
I used to babysit some lovely kids
Then they introduced me to family friends who had a bunch of satan spawn for me to look after. After two weeks of suffering suprise jump attacks which sometimes involved eye gouging, my peripheral vision adapted and I casually moved out of the way causing numerous accidents to knees. They cried and I felt victorious. Does that make me a bad person?
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 21:54, 2 replies)
Not quite babysitters
and not quite on topic but how and ever. My second was born just yesterday and has since developed a bit of a temperature. Hopefully nothing to be too concerned about and he is now in the intensive care unit. As a result I watched several nurses look after up to five very poorly baby's each feeding, clothing and monitoring each. When parents came down to spend time with their baby's the nurses were fantastically supportive whilst not giving the parents false hope. I watched them resuscitate a baby twice today within all of five feet of me. It is intensely emotional. They are TRUE babysitters.

Apologies for lack of funnys.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 20:43, 21 replies)
I was a teenage babysitter (or was I?)
When I finished school at 16, I got a job at a printing workshop. This sparked a huge row with my mother, who was very aspirational and firmly believed that education was the only way anyone could achieve anything. But despite all the sniping and sneering, she and my step-father soon realised it wasn't all bad; as I worked on the day shift (6am-2pm) I was home before anyone else and was therefore free to do various domestic tasks and collect my younger, far more precocious half-brother and -sister from school and keep them entertained.

This wouldn't have been so bad had I not already been the family's black sheep by default (I was a relic from my mother's previous marriage. My father was a mechanic, my step-father did something executive in an office; the latter mostly thought of me as an inconvenience. Physically, I am a lot like my father - at 16 I was the tallest and the largest by a long way.) Now it seemed that instead of a black sheep, I had been "reformed" into an oversized, averagely-intelligent housekeeper for a family of geniuses. Things were not helped by my mother and step-father taking advantage of this situation and having frequent nights out in the city, then coming back noisy and drunk while everyone else was trying to sleep.

There was another big row when I got transferred to the evening shift (2pm-10pm) and could no longer function as free domestic help - sheer coincidence of course. By this point, I was immune to arguments and didn't care about anything anymore. A couple of months later, I had enough money to move out, did so and never looked back.

So yeah, "cheers" or something.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 17:01, 1 reply)
I was the bane of babysitters....
...Fortunately, my parents didn't use them long. My older siblings got to be old enough to "look after me" fairly quick. By "look after me" I mean, my older brother would go see friends in the neighborhood, my older sister would stay on the phone the whole time, I'd make dinner for my sister and myself, and then clean the kitchen afterwards. If there was more time, I'd keep cleaning and do my sister's other chores for her, and she'd get back on the phone. When my folks would come home to a sparkling clean house, they'd pat my sister on the head "for being so responsible". After all, who would actually believe that an 8 year old would ever do any housecleaning?

Anyway, back to the topic. Babysitters.

I was a clever kid, and I disliked the thought of my folks not trusting me and my siblings enough to leave us alone. I figured, if they didn't trust us already, they should at least have a reason, so I terrorized any babysitter that entered the house.

My favorite occasion was with a girl who had a crippling fear of rats. I went to the local toy store and bought about one dozen giant rubber rats and hid them strategically around the house, hoping she'd find one. When it seemed she wouldn't on her own, I asked her for a bowl of cereal. I then heard the following:

"I don't know, Audienda, I think you're all out of Lucky Cha— GYAA!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!!"

She ran screaming from the kitchen and hid in a corner of the living room until I checked and made sure the "rat had gone away". Then I asked her if we could watch a movie. She pulled a VHS tape off the shelf only to find herself face to face with a rat the size of a guinea pig.

She never came back to our house after that, nor did any other babysitter. My parents found out what I'd done, but luckily for me they had a sense of humor!
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 15:45, 1 reply)
A friend of mine
was once babysat by Beverley Allitt, a few years before the alleged murders and the proved attacks in 1991.

He turned out alright though.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 13:22, 2 replies)
I used to babysit for a nice couple, their young girl and boy
But I found I had designs on them, so to stop me, I shot me in my own head. I killed the paedophile in me: now I do the same for society.

These freaks don't deserve punishment - they deserve GUNISHMENT.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 13:08, 2 replies)
I corrupted the son of a pacifist vegan couple.
Had to mind my own baby brother, spawn of mum and step dad (two adults who made my childhood "interesting" and "different.")

One lovely couple lived nearby and would have me over to mind their own children. They were pacifist vegans and were raising their children in a non-violent manner. They liked me and I liked them.

On a few occasions, I was already "booked" to mind Baby Bruvver, so Anan would tell me to just bring him over as he was about the same age as her son. BB was about three and just learning to talk with gusto. Well, he was just learning to repeat phrases shouted with gusto by the adults in his life.

Anan and Ganesh, I am sorry. BB taught your son to shout those decidely non-pacifist mysogynist curses.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 10:59, 2 replies)
Baby sitting
I never had a baby sitter when I was growing up. I have also never baby sat for anybody either.

I have no real contribution to make to this thread at all.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 8:08, 4 replies)
catching drips
i used to babysit a young neighbor boy. before i sent him to bed and then scared myself shitless while watching twin peaks, i was to make sure he had a bath and a flintstones vitamins. i would sit on the closed toilet while he bathed and then make him brush his teeth after which he popped his pill. sounds pretty boring unless you're gary glitter... but bathtime was gametime.
he caught the drips.
this tiny 4 or 5 year old would arrange himself in the tub so that he could position his little dingaling under the faucet and pull up what little foreskin he had left after circumcision and see how many drips of water he could catch. i don't think i ever kept a record, nor do i think he did. i don't even want to estimate what that record could have potentially been.... but it does make for weird mental pictures when i hang out and drink beers with him 20 years later wondering if he remembers sharing this wonderful game with me. i still have yet to be drunk enough with him to bring it up.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 4:03, Reply)
Don't Upset the Baby
Willie was a sweet 8-month-old with a nice family that I babysat for a couple of times.

Willie didn't like having his diaper changed. To distract him I would always make animals noises while changing his diaper. Then one day it went something like this:

Me: "Meow!"
Willie grins.
Me: "Woof woof!"
Willie gurgles.
Me: "Chirp chirp!"
Willie waves his smalls hands happily.
Me: "Ribbit! Ribbit!"
Willie shrieks in terror and bursts into heartrending sobs that don't subside for an hour, in spite of all my panicked hushings and cuddlings.

His parents never called me again after that. I can't help but wonder if they had some sort of video setup that caught me terrorizing their son with frog noises.
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 0:50, 2 replies)
Babysitting for Dutch families is the best.
I used to babysit for a well to do dutch family, two young boys, the older boy ( as mentioned in another post) spoke english which was great as i didnt speak a word of dutch.
So generally he would translate for the younger boy, and for the father, a great big bearded bear of a sea captain.
I did pick up some words but probably not to be said in polite company.
Babysitting there was great, i often slept over, in a room specially for me that was like some luxurious hotel room.
And they introduced to the awesomeness of dutch waffle biscuits full of syrup that you put on top of a cup of hot drink so the syrup inside melted, I still love those
Gradually other dutch families they knew asked me to babysit and it wasnt unusual for me to be ferried miles away and dropped of in total strangers houses.
I dont know if its a dutch hospitality thing but in every single house there would a mountain of food and drink laid out in the kitchen with a 'help yourself'
And there was always some DeKuyper booze, which I thought was some kind of trap , my being only 16.
One evening however sticks in my mind.
Im driven to new house for the first time and the kids are already in bed, I'm told dont worry they wont wake and get up.
I spent all night trying to calm a hysterical 5yr old girl who came down to find a stranger in the house who didnt speak dutch, she screamed till she was sick and I had to wash vomit out of her hair while the poor thing was so terrified she gouged several lumps out of me, just as parents and various guests arrived home.
Parents went up to calm the child while i'm sat on the stairs trying to fend off the advances of one of their friends.
Who then volunteered to drive me home, I had to pretend I didnt know the way so the father had to drive me back, reluctantly and silently
That family never asked me to babysit again, creepy friend did but i had to decline.
Babysat for the original family a few more times till they split up, on my last job the mother gave me a £50 bonus and several nice things from the house
Which was nice
(, Sat 30 Oct 2010, 0:03, 3 replies)
My wife and I
Used to babysit for a slightly precocious child who once asked us what "My Little Pony" would be if translated into Turkish. This was in 1990 before the innertubes had taken over and we had to feign ignorance. I still don't know but I guess it would be fairly easy to find out now. That was also the same night that the female parent arrived back at the house with her knickers in her hand, claiming to have needed to take them off for some spurious reason... The mind boggles.
(, Fri 29 Oct 2010, 22:19, 3 replies)
3 stories
No. 1 - Babysat brother and sister, great kids except one night whilst piggybacking the son around the house at full pelt his head collided with mine and his mouth bled alot, calmed him down and he was fine, didnt realise he'd left a note on his bedroom door for his parents, saying how i'd made him have a horrible accident and his mouth bled.. didnt go back again.

No. 2 - Babysat 2 sisters, great fun but mega hyper, we'd have screaming competitions to see if I could wear them out so they would sleep, anyway one night lots of noise upstairs so went to check on them, youngest was stood at the top of the stairs and toilet was running in the background, had a short conversation of 'so then, have you flushed something down the toilet?' yes was the reply discovered it wasnt just one but 4 loo rolls had gone down but of course got stuck, beautiful task of plucking them out ensued, I didnt go back after that.

3rd - New job, nice and easy one child to manage, lovely house, nice Bang and Olufsen sound system, back in the 90's this was class, next visit took a number of tapes to record cd's, after a long time twiddling with buttons I managed to figure out how to use and duly started taping any decent cd in the collection, didnt figure on parents arriving home early and catching me in the act.. last time I went there.

Never suited the job was more on the wavelength of the children..
(, Fri 29 Oct 2010, 22:06, Reply)
I must have been mistaken.
I thought I used to babysit, but after reading a lot of these stories, it seems that all babysitters are either banging the adults who pay them (that makes them whores, yes?) or paedos, of which I am neither. Maybe I didn't babysit when I was young. /me wanders off looking confused
(, Fri 29 Oct 2010, 18:44, Reply)
Back in time.
I lived in Hampshire, in England.

And I've notice that there's one thing though that's very different and rather worrying. When I was a little boy. I had a nanny, and she was very strict. When I was a naughty boy, I would get spanked. Nanny would spank me, when I was naughty, and now...Freddy needs a nanny, because when Freddy's naughty, he needs to get spanked.

I don't have children. I can't stand the little brats! But Freddy needs a nanny....
(, Fri 29 Oct 2010, 17:51, 4 replies)
I was a very good babysitter...
never went berserk in the family's drinks cabinet, or through their drawers looking for pron or stuff...
1984. The night of Live Aid coincided with RAF Gutersloh's Summer Ball. Babysitters were at a premium, DM 50 for the night was what I got, although I reckon I could have asked for double and got it.
So I watched Live Aid while I babysat for the kids of one of my Dad's Sergeants.
And I was only 13 at the time!!
Never be allowed now.
(, Fri 29 Oct 2010, 17:32, 4 replies)
I never had a baby sitter.

Well, I mean, I guess I must have done, but I don’t remember any.

But I do remember being one.

And I would strongly suggest to those of you that are still at school that you do not agree to babysit your middle aged divorced Mum of two A-Level Economics teachers children. No matter how much you want the money.

Because even in your mid 30’s, people you were at school with will still accuse you of being ‘the one that shagged that minging teacher’.
(, Fri 29 Oct 2010, 17:31, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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