Zen and the art of babysitter selection

Alright, this babysitter subject doesn't have so much to do with Zen as it does satisfying the prompt for the 30 days of writing.  Anyway...

There’s many important criteria for moms to consider when picking a baby sitter and the most important one is the least obvious.

Basic mental and physical competence is a must, of course.  You wouldn’t pick a quadriplegic, for example, your kid would walk all over them.  (literally) Unless of course your child was a quadriplegic too, in which case it would be an even match.  Competency is pretty important, but not the most important.

There’s flexibility to consider.  They have to be available when you need them and be able to stay as late as you require.  The honor student across the street might be the world’s best yet least expensive sitter on earth, but if her own curfew is 9pm it doesn’t really help you much if you’re trying for a late night out.  So flexibility is pretty important too, but still not the most important.

Trust is the key, it’s the deal-maker or deal-breaker.  Well, one kind in particular.

You have to be able to trust this person with your house.  You don’t want to come home to find your two story cape is now a three alarm blaze.  -Kinda important.

You have to be able to trust this person with your kids.  You don’t want to come home and find your kids are now half bald because they got a hold of some scissors because your sitter was too busy playing angry birds to keep track of them. -Very important.

But the single most important trust you have to have, and most important consideration above all others?  That they won’t bang your husband. -Most important by far.

Don’t think it couldn’t happen to you?  It happen to Christie Brinkley.  The super model.  Are you a super model?  A pretty good model?  A K-mart catalogue model?  Start worrying.  

If it can happen to her
it can happen to you.

If there’s a natural intoxicant that could make even the most sure-footed husband wobbly enough to stumble off the straight & narrow it’s the temptation and allure of a younger, more nubile woman who takes care of his kids  That’s why you don’t bring one of those into your home.  

But fear not, I’m here to help.  To that end I have a few tips for you, all focused on making you the clear winner in a hotness face-off with your baby sitter if it ever comes to that.

If you’re taller than your husband and you know he’s a little uncomfortable with that then get a sitter even taller than you.  Hire a WNBA player; they’re easy to get and need the side work, those chicks make peanuts.

If you’re a size twelve then hire a size twenty (unless you know he’s into that).

If you’ve got an embarrassing limp get a sitter with a worse limp, and a club foot.  A few extra toes wouldn’t hurt either.

If you’ve got thinning hair hire a baldy.

If you’re a baldy, then hire a skully.  Hang out at the head trauma center, you’ll find somebody who fits the bill.

If you’ve got a slight mustache, then hire the bearded lady from the circus.  You get the idea.

Admittedly I’m getting a little extreme here.  The point is make the other choice so unpalatable by comparison that your own charm outweighs the combined draw of not only the prospective babysitter’s feminine allure, but the excitement factor, the taboo sex factor, the babysitter fantasy factor, and the natural -and quite understandable- desire to have something on his plate other than the same old meatloaf every single time.

And don't give me false outrage like "I'm not meatloaf!  I'm a domestic goddess and blah blah blah... " -that's just hubris on your part.  And hubris is the tipping point from which the mighty fall.  And you're not even mighty.  You're meatloaf.  And not even fresh, zesty, hot out of the oven meatloaf.  Yesterday's meat loaf.  The kind that still has cold lumps in it no matter how many tries you give it in the microwave.

Yes, it’s important to trust your spouse, but nobody says you can't be smart too and stack the deck in your favor.  If it’s between you and the balding, bearded lady with a club foot and extra toes, you gotta like your chances, right?