Sammy's Jammies

In many ways, the first encounter with a promising new babysitter is a lot like a first date: you put your best foot forward, pull out all the stops, and hope this is the beginning of a wonderful partnership. My routine is to make sure the house is clean, the kids have been appropriately threatened/bribed into submission, and the babysitter knows how to use the remote controls. This particular evening was no exception. Because I am a cool mom, I try to accommodate my sons’ preferences for “young and pretty”babysitters as much as possible and within reason, so when my friend recommended a responsible and attractive 14 year-old girl from down the street I knew we were in luck.

Fast forward about 2 or 3 hours and 2 or 3 cocktails- my husband and I were enjoying a wonderful going away party for some good friends who were moving to Florida. We were having a great time when I got a call from our new babysitter. The fact that it was a call and not a text was slightly alarming, and a bit of a buzz-kill in itself. Against my better judgment, I answered the phone. Here’s what happened next:

Me: “Hi Mallory. Is everything ok?”

Mallory’s MOM: “Hi Mrs. Swift, this is Mallory’s mom.”(Insert “Holy Sh!t – why are you at my house?” thoughts here.) “Everything is ok, but Sammy is stuck in his pajamas.”

Me: confused silence

Mallory’s mom: “Apparently, he wanted to look like a peg-legged pirate and put his pj’s on with his legs bent so he could walk around on his knees.”

Me: laughing

Mallory’s mom: “He’s been stuck like this for an hour and a half. I think he’s in a lot of pain. We have offered to cut him out of his pajamas, but he won’t let us, because he is not wearing underwear. I think you should come home.”

Alan and I hugged our friends goodbye and admitted that our new babysitter’s mother was at our house, and asked us to come home because our son was stuck in his pajamas and they couldn’t cut him out. This surprised no one.

Everything turned out ok once Alan was able to free Sam from his super-restrictive, paralysis-inducing pirate costume. Sam was pretty sore, embarrassed, and disappointed that we couldn’t salvage his favorite pair of pajamas. As a precautionary measure, we now let all new babysitters know that our house is bookended by an ER nurse on one side, and a medical resident on the other, in the event of an emergency that requires using a sharp object to free my children from self-inflicted pain.

And we always make sure Sam is wearing underwear.