Jul 12, 2022
5 min read
My Son’s Babysitter
She was a nice girl before she met me.
“We’ll be back around eleven, okay, Natalie?” my wife asked the eighteen-year-old babysitter who had been watching our son Drew for what felt like forever. But in reality it had only been two summers, ever since Drew had outgrown his tantrums that could only be soothed by his mother or grandmother staying home with him.
