The shirt is a bit odd. The v-neck on it is so low it's practically belly-button-exposing (makes me think of the sort of 70's pantsuits favored by Elvis and James Brown - who ever thought those were hot?). Obviously it's meant to be worn over a tank top or something like that, but I've never seen anything quite like it.
Those 70's pant suits made me think of watching Don Kirshner's Rock Concert, which was something I only watched during the wee hours of baby sitting the year I was fourteen. (Come to think of it, I once saw Aretha Franklin wearing one of those pantsuits on Don Kirshner's Rock Concert. Not her best look.) We lived in New York on a cul-de-sac, and every house besides ours was occupied by small children and their parents. My sister, Gretchen, and I had as much babysitting as we wanted. And these folks paid well. They were all about having their swinging 70's parties, which meant someone else had to watch their kids. And they stayed out late. I don't know how they did it. I remember on New Year's Eve watching Jerry Lewis' Muscular Dystrophy Telethon until 3:30 a.m. before the parents returned and I could go home and sleep. There was nothing else on TV but Jerry Lewis. Torturous. Thank god I was getting paid $3 an hour.
That house, the Telethon house, was done all in white and gold. It had a white and gold princess phone. There were plastic coverings on the white and gold living room furniture, and a vinyl walkway throughout the house atop their white shag carpet. It was not an especially relaxing babysitting gig. Then there was the (scandalous!) divorced mom who left for me a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, and bowls and bowls of assorted candies to snack on. There was a toddler who had the most out-y belly button I'd ever seen. His parents were nice, though it was in doing yard work for them that my brother got the most horrific case of poison sumac ever.
Then there was the baby who was only a week or so old. His mom was the recently divorced sister of one of the cul-de-sac moms. That was my first solo experience around a baby so small. I'd been told to leave the baby in the crib, but he cried and seemed so lonely. Eventually, I snuggled him up next to me on top of the covers of the king-sized bed in the master bedroom - where the TV was. There was something so grounding about just letting my body soothe this little guy. His mom - a long-haired, skinny woman probably in her late 20's - looked shell shocked, looked more like she could use several days' sleep rather than the crazy, drunken party she attended.
That baby is probably out there somewhere now, a 35-year-old man. I hope he found his way okay. He made a pretty good start, able to get an inexperienced teenager to offer him the comfort he needed.
No comments:
Post a Comment