We had the couch to sit on
Babysitting in the Lounge
Oh so many years ago
Back in the nineteen fifties
A wind up record machine
Put the needle in the groove
Sinatra grinding out love songs
Volume down in case kids hear
Sewing machine on stand
In bay window of room
So I beckoned Pam to me
Hoping she would relax now
We held hands then I kissed her
Pushed her back on the cushions
There was a knock on the door
Panic, I jumped up quickly
It was their little boy there
"I've wet the bed" he muttered
Never heard Pam laugh so loud
Little boy my job; girl hers
My grave face nodded, then smiled
Took him back to change his clothes
Older sister woke, went downstairs
Sheet now replaced, read him story
Asleep again hour later
So slowly crept back downstairs
Sue, me and girl then played cards
Snap as she knew the symbols
At last we took her to bed
Just at the bottom of the stairs
Colliding with parents
Hope they believe our story
Image found at www.winecountrymum.com
Loves path always has its obstacles - i'm sure they believed ;)
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this story. Like the way you wove in the words. Love the Sinatra reference.
ReplyDeleteYou brought back some memories from long ago. I normally played by the rules, didn't have boys over while babysitting. Only did it once, and the boy came to ask for his ring back, he'd met someone else.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
I had to smile at the ending and wonder if maybe this was a cover story after all?! :-)
ReplyDeleteThis was an enjoyable, nostalgic poem.
ReplyDelete