Good riddance & Eddie to the rescue

I had all of Arrogant’s kids in their coats and shoes by the time he arrived.  Their car seats were set at the edge of my garage.  The rest of their stuff was gathered up in a bag in my mudroom.

Arrogant walked in and started to lead the kids out the door.  ‘OK, have a good weekend guys.  Bye!’  I called after them.  Arrogant just herded the kids into the questionably-dangerous garage.  ‘OK, let’s go.’ he said to the kids.  No ‘thank you for everything’.  Nothing.  I was flabbergasted.

I stood in the mudroom at the now infamous garage door watching them walk away.  Then I called into the garage, ‘You’re welcome!’  And then, my friends, I did slam that damn door.  

I turned to Eddie who was working on a college application on his laptop at the kitchen table.  ‘I wish your father was home.  He would have said something to that guy.  I can’t believe he just walked out of here and didn’t even thank me!  I have done nothing but bend over backwards for them and take excellent care of their kids’  

Coach should have been home, but he was running late.  Eddie stood up, ‘I’ll do it.’  He put on his coat and shoes and went out to the driveway where Arrogant was loading his kids into the Tesla. 

I stayed in the house but I could hear Ed’s voice.  He told me afterwards that he just looked at the guy, who was kind of surprised to see him standing there, and said:  ‘Hey Arrogant, you have some good kids there.  I suggest at your next place you show your sitter some appreciation though.  My mom has worked hard for you.’

I am down to one preschooler now -
but these three one and a half year
 olds are a hoot.  I like to call this
prizewinner 'babies playing babies.'

Arrogant got all worked up.  (Eddie pointed out that he managed to maintain his composure and keep his emotions in check, but that Arrogant started losing his shit.  I have suggested to Ed that he might consider becoming a lawyer.  He told me that after this encounter he was actually thinking about the lawyer route).  ‘She’s so violent.  We cannot have her sit for the kids,’ Arrogant hissed in his Lebanese accent.

‘Oh, you are talking about the door thing.  Yeah, I was here.  You weren’t.  That was just a misunderstanding.  That’s all.  My mom is not violent!  Well, good luck!’ Ed called as he started back to the house.

Arrogant desperately wanted the last word.  He kept calling after my 18 year old, ‘She’s violent!’  Ed just kept wishing him luck louder and louder drowning him out.  

So, I am violent?  Me?!  This from a guy who screams so much when simply getting his preschoolers into his car that other moms I sit for shuttered when they witnessed it.  

I turned other families away in August because I couldn’t take any other kids.  In the middle of the school year, it's tough to find a teacher in need of a sitter.  My income took a direct hit.

While the parents that interview me often want references, I find myself wishing that I could ask them a few questions . . . like:  'Are you a jerk?  Are you crazy?  What kind of parent are you?'  You know, just the basics.

The other interesting thing is that had Lad been home instead of Eddie, and if I had asked him to handle Arrogant -he might have grabbed a golf club from my ‘dangerous’ garage and knocked out a few of Arrogant’s headlights on his coveted Tesla.  Dare to dream.