When Mrs. Ford called me about babysitting for her, I was very confused. As far as I knew, Mrs. Ford only had one son, his name was Jimmy and we had gone to high school together. This was two years later now; I had just turned 20 and figured that Jimmy would be around the same age. She was very nice when she called, but it seemed to me that she was skirting around something. Mrs. Ford said that it would probably be best if the first time I came over, I was just her Mommy’s helper. She said it would make it easier in the future. That way she could go over all the special details of taking care of the baby. I agreed, feeling a little uneasy, not knowing what to expect, but told her that I would be there the next day.
At one o’clock in the afternoon the next day I knocked on the Ford’s door. Mrs. Ford answered the door and invited me in. “He’s just about to wake up from his nap,” she whispered. “Come on, you can meet him.” We walked up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. It was just the cutest nursery, with teddy bear wall paper, a changing table, and a wooden crib with a beautiful mobile spinning above it. At first I didn’t realize what was different, but as I approached the crib where I could hear the cooing baby I realized—that is a very big changing table, and that crib, I thought, that crib is huge. When I peered down I saw a pair of big blue eyes looking up at me. It was Jimmy! Jimmy, who I had seen all through my schooling. We had never been friends or even acquaintances, but I had seen him at school, he seemed to be the type to keep to himself. But a sweet kid none the less. A sweet baby, I guess, I thought as I looked down at him. This is—not what I was expecting, I thought to myself. But he looked so darn cute in his little onesie and his messy head of hair, I smiled at him and he instantly smiled back and started giggling.
“Samantha,” Mrs. Ford said, “this is baby Jimmy.” I just couldn’t help myself, I reached down and tickled his tummy, “hiya baby Jimmy,” I said. Oh he just loved that! He kicked his little legs and giggled. For the rest of the day I followed Mrs. Ford around and helped her take care of Jimmy. She showed me how to change his diaper and feed him and the kinds of games he liked to play. Jimmy was just about the cutest little guy I had ever taken care of. “Taking care of adult babies is pretty fun,” I told Mrs. Ford at the end of the day. “I would love to come back and take care of him!”