babysitting Dave Robinson

July 16, 2011
By vanessasandra GOLD, Bandung, Other
vanessasandra GOLD, Bandung, Other
11 articles 1 photo 20 comments

Favorite Quote:
Life isn't about how to survive the storm but how to dance in the rain.

I slept in castles and fell in love because I was taught to dream. ♥

“Hello, yes Mrs. Robinson, I can babysit tonight. Okay, I’ll definitely be there!” Ramona answered on the phone. Ramona Collins was always more than happy to agree to babysit a Robinson. Getting paid $200 dollars an hour by the Robinson family, she thought of it as a quick and easy way to earn money she was planning to save up for a cheerleading summer course.
At six o’clock sharp, she arrived in her old navy blue Mustang at the front of the Robinson residential. She mentally reminded herself to use part of the money she earned tonight to buy herself a decent car. The tall, golden, gleaming gate never seemed to fail to leave Ramona speechless. Her big brown eyes admired just the gate and the dreamy mansion that stood behind it. An obvious shimmer of jealousy could be seen in her eyes. Before she could enter, two security guards approached Ramona and made sure she was safe and not some psycho who wanted to rob the place. They pushed a button to open the gate for her, and Ramona pushed on the gas pedal, entering the mansion through a path lined with beautiful plants. She looked left and right and found herself driving very slowly, distracted by the trees and plants that were decorated elaborately in the garden.
Finally after parking, she knocked on the large, grand door. It completely slipped her mind that there was a doorbell right there. “Ugh, I guess I’m still so awed by the amazing entrance,” Ramona said to herself jokingly. She looked down at her outfit one last time She was wearing a black-sequined tank top, a pair of long skinny jeans, and the highest high-heeled shoe that she owned. She attempted to look very professional for the family, although now that she thought about it, the black tank top wouldn’t do her much justice. A maid in an outfit that you see movies opened the door for Ramona. She was lead through a hallway with marble flooring and paintings hung up on the wall painted by legendary artists. The housekeeper led her into a very classy living room. Ramona’s jaw dropped as she saw the shiny black designer sofa, other antique furniture, a polished grand piano, and a massive flat screen television hung up on the wall above a fireplace.
A few minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Robinson came in, dressed very elegantly. “They must be going to a royal ball or something,” Ramona sarcastically said again to herself. She found herself staring at Mrs. Robinson because she looked so stunning in a black Louis Vuiton cocktail dress. Silence drifted over the room as Ramona admired the lady adoringly, while the lady let her, obviously used to people doing that.
Mrs. Robinson finally said in a soft voice, “Thank you for coming in such short notice, dear. Dave will be down in a second, Ramona. Do not let Dave eat any junk food, only organic food; no video games today, just television; and make sure he practices piano for at least half an hour, he’s got a very important concert tomorrow. We will be back at ten at the latest.” Mrs. Robinson handed her a card. “Call this number if you need anything,” Mrs. Robinson lastly added. Once Mr. and Mrs. Robinson were out the door, Ramona let herself relax on the sofa, which she soon noticed was even more comfortable than her own bed.
A few seconds later, Ramona was already settled in, chatting on the phone with her boyfriend. “ Oh my gosh, Jake,” Ramona started to say on the phone, “You have got to see the CASTLE I’m in right now.” Ramona looked to her left and saw that a little boy, not older than 8, with large brown eyes, curly brown hair, and an adorable smile, showing that he had two front teeth missing, was staring at her excitedly. “Hi babysitter! Can we PLEASE do something?” Dave asked in an excited voice. “How about playing cars with me? I love cars! When I grow up, I want to be a racecar driver!! Did you know that I can start an engine on a real car?!” Dave continued babbling.
“ Umm, hi, you must be Dan!” Ramona said in a bothered tone. All she really wanted was to finish her conversation with the kid so she could return to her boyfriend who was waiting rather impatiently on the phone.
“No! My name is Dave!” he corrected while giggling.
“ Yeah, I mean Dave. I can’t play with you right now. I, er, have homework to do,” Ramona lied, “Why don’t you go play with your cars yourself, and I’ll catch up.”
“But, but, but… Fine,” Dave moaned, and he marched back upstairs to his room with both arms tightly crossed across his chest.
“Hey, I’m back cutie,” said Ramona in a gushy voice to her boyfriend who was still on the phone. Ramona continued chatting on the phone while poor Dave was left alone playing with his cars.
“I’m boorreeedd,” Dave complained to himself. He crept outside the living room and went downstairs and saw where Ramona’s Mustang was parked. He climbed in the driver’s seat of the car and started the engine.
Ramona was still upstairs in the living room, now gossiping with her fellow cheerleaders on the phone about the hottest footfall player in school dating an Asian middle-schooler. Then she heard a soft grumbling sound, but it got louder and louder. Soon, she recognized that it was the engine of her own car. She jumped up off the sofa and ran to the tall glass windows. She opened the gold velvet curtains and saw that little Dave was in the driver’s seat of her car. He looked so tiny, mostly because Ramona was looking down on him from what felt like the millionth floor of the house. Already going in reverse, Dave about to hit Mr. Robinson’s orange Porsche, which was parked right behind Ramona’s car. Ramona dropped her phone and gasped, still frozen and not knowing what to do.

With all the energy that was in her, she screamed at the top of her lungs, “DAVE!!!”
She turned back and sprinted towards the door. She scrambled to the garage screaming, “Dave, Dave, Dave!! Oh God, this cannot be happening to me!!”
When she reaches the garage, she heard a loud, piercing (not to mention unpleasant) crashing sound. The sight was horrifying. Her Mustang was, well ugly as usual, but Mr. Robinson’s sporty orange Porsche was broken; pieces of the front hood crumbling and clanking on the floor, the front window cracked. Ramona ran to her car and picked Dave up, inspecting his body making sure he was all right. His face was first pale, and then it looked like he was about to burst into tears. Ramona for a while, bracing her ears for the boy’s sobbing to start. Something else happened, however. A huge smile spread on his face, his eyes squinting, and he burst into a laughter that was pretty loud for a 7-year-old. Ramona was bewildered, confused… outraged. That little BRAT had crashed her car into a Porsche and he was still laughing?! “Yep,” she thought, “there is defiantly something wrong with that kid.”
Ramona gave him a piece of her mind screaming things like, “What in the world is wrong with you? Oh, I’m going to get in SO much trouble because of” As Ramona was scolding and yelling very unpleasant things at Dave, Mr. and Mrs. Robinson came down the driveway. Ramona was so outraged she couldn’t even hear the red Ferrari that was driving in and kept yelling, occasionally throwing swear words at the little boy.
Mrs. Robinson stood behind Ramona with a stern look on her face. Dave moved his eyes from the red-faced Ramona to the even redder-faced mother. Ramona suddenly stopped when she realized that the boy wasn’t looking at her anymore, rather what, or in this case, who, was behind her. She turned nervously around and saw that it was Mrs. Robinson, who was seemingly prettier when she was angry, staring at her with her piercing green eyes. When she saw that it was Mrs. Robinson, she gulped and nervously squeaked while saying in a merciless voice, “Please, Mrs. Robinson. This is not what it looks like. You see, Dave here, he, he, he crashed my car into your husband’s car.”
“How did he get all the way in the garage, in your car, into my husband’s car, with you watching over him?” Mrs. Robinson said in a stern, confused, and harsh voice.
“Well I was in the living room-“ Ramona was stuck there. She realized that that would be a ridiculous explanation because she was paid to babysit.
“Hmmm… I see. So you were in the living room the whole time, without Dave, letting him crash a very pricy car.”
“When you say it like that, it makes me sound like an idiot,” Ramona said without thinking. “But yes, your summary right there pretty much sums up the whole night,” Ramona added quickly.
Mrs. Robinson sighed a deep and disappointed sigh. “I think that we’re done here with you Ramona. Umm... thank you for your time tonight..?” Mrs. Robinson said, still confused.
Ramona’s face fell as she heard that that was the end of her babysitting career with the Robinsons. “Umm, thank you Mrs. Robinson. Again, I’m very sorry. So how much will I be getting paid tonight?” Ramona asked shyly.
“I think that you can go without getting paid. That is quite reasonable, seeing what you have done tonight. Oh, I don’t know what my husband is going to think about this,” Mrs. Robinson said, shocked that the girl would ask such a silly question like that.
Ramona’s face fell even more, hearing that she wasted one whole night screwing up, and not even getting paid for it.
“Oh well,” Ramona thought, “I guess I was never meant to babysit.”

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