AN: I only finished Julie's Back like 2 days ago, lol, but I've been wanting to write something like this for ages, so here goes, my 2nd fic :) Please R&R even if you think it's rubbish!
I don't know whether you've ever tried babysitting, but if you haven't, don't.
You think it's going to be so easy - three sweet little kids with angel faces, their mom says they're little horrors but you just can't believe it cos they're just sitting there watching tv, quiet as mice.
And then before you know it you find yourself stuck halfway up a tree.
I'll try to explain how I got here.
I started babysitting for two main reasons: 1) I was broke, and 2) I hated it. So when my mom's friend Lois called up and asked if I could spare an evening to watch her three sons, I was like ''Yeah, sure!''
So I arrived at the house at 5 o'clock, and was introduced to three angelic little boys: Reese, 12, Malcolm, 10, and Dewey, 6. They were just sitting there watching cartoons, I figured they'd be no trouble at all.
Then their mom left, and they started fighting.
I don't know how it started, they were all yelling and hitting each other; it was madness.
''Guys, guys!'' I shouted above the chaos. ''Stop fighting!''
Then before I knew it, the little one, Dewey, was flying backwards across the room, and he hit his head with a loud ''crack'' on the side of the coffee table.
The other two stopped in their tracks, frozen in that split second before the pain kicked in and their little brother started screaming.
I ran over. ''Dewey, Dewey, it's okay,'' I said, trying to stay calm, ''Let me see your head. Sit up.''
He was still screaming hard, though I wasn't sure how much of it was actual pain and how much was just shock. As far as I could see there was no blood.
''Just try to calm down, sweetie,'' I said, ''You're not bleeding, you're just gonna have a nasty bump. It's okay.''
He'd stopped screaming now but his breath was coming out in short, fast sobs. I picked him up and carried him over to the couch.
''Way to go, moron,'' said Malcolm to Reese.
''That wasn't my fault, it was you!'' Reese exclaimed.
''No it wasn't, you hit him and he fell backwards, no way was that my fault,'' said Malcolm.
''Guys, you're not helping by fighting with each other,'' I said. Dewey had more or less calmed down now. He was curled up next to me on the couch, still sniffling a bit, his head resting on my shoulder.
''He started it,'' said Reese sulkily.
''Right now I don't care,'' I said wearily. ''Just go and do some homework or something.''
Reluctantly they left, walked to their room. I looked down at Dewey. ''Want me to read you a story?'' He nodded. ''Stay there,'' I said, ''I'll go get one from your room.''
I got up and followed Reese and Malcolm. ''Is he okay?'' Malcolm asked, looking a little guilty, as I entered the bedroom they shared.
''I think so,'' I said, searching along the bookshelf for a book I thought Dewey would like. ''He's not really that hurt, it was the shock more than anything.''
Malcolm looked relieved. Reese just snorted in disgust. ''What a baby.''
''Shut up, Reese,'' said Malcolm.
''Will you two stop arguing?'' I said. ''Which books does Dewey like, all these have titles I can't even understand.''
''They're Malcolm's geek books, cos he's a geek,'' said Reese.
Malcolm ignored him. ''Wilbur the Worried Worm's his favorite,'' he told me, ''It's over there,'' he added, pointing.
''Thanks, Malcolm,'' I said, picking up the book. I left the room, went into the living room, expecting to see Dewey on the couch where I'd left him, but he was gone.
''Dewey!'' I called, hoping he'd just gone to the bathroom or something. ''Dewey, sweetie, where are you?''
''Dewey, are you hiding somewhere? If you are we can play hide-and-seek, just shout to let me know you're still here!''
Malcolm and Reese came out of the bedroom.
''He's gone,'' I said, trying not to panic. ''I left him sitting on the couch!''
''He's probably just hiding,'' Malcolm said, though he looked as worried as I felt.
We started searching the house, literally everywhere - even in places I didn't think he'd fit, like under the sofa and inside the washing machine - ''Oh, he fits in there alright,'' Reese assured me. ''We found that out a long time ago.''
I decided not to pursue that one.
''Where could he be?'' I said, once we were sure we'd explored every inch of the house and back yard. Reese and I were standing in the kitchen, Malcolm had wandered a little way away.
''Um, guys?'' he said.
''What is it?'' I asked.
''The front door's half open,'' he said, ''And Dewey's school shoes are gone.''
''Oh, fantastic,'' I groaned.
''So what do we do now?'' Reese asked me.
I shrugged. ''We'll have to go look for him I guess.''
''We've been looking for hours,'' Reese groaned, ''He can't have got this far!''
''If he's ahead of us, he could be anywhere,'' said Malcolm practically, ''and it's only been one hour.''
''Are you sure there's nowhere else he could have gone?'' I asked them.
Malcolm thought for a moment. ''Not unless he tried to get to the kiddies' park.''
Reese shook his head. ''No way, he'd have to cross a huge road to get there.''
We all looked at each other.
I sighed. ''This just keeps getting better and better.''