There’s a blog called Texts From Last Night which solicits the submission of text messages, which are then posted bereft of identifying marks or context. The result is often humorous, but sometimes creepy or head-scratching in nature. One recent entry put me in mind of something:
(206): Sometimes I get depressed that my son is too young to understand how hot his babysitter is.
This reminded me of Little Quinn. With his degree of disability, Medicare provided for in-home nursing care for him. This care, while accompanied by more than a few headaches in getting it all set up (since we were literally turning our home into a workplace, there were certain OSHA-related concerns we had to think about, for example), was a lifesaver for us, allowing me to work my full work schedule along with The Wife working hers. We had several nurses, provided by an independent agency with their charges paid by Medicare, who would come into the apartment and care for Little Quinn for several hours each day.
Each of the nurses loved Little Quinn; it helped that he was a cute little guy. (Man, did a lot of girls who will be eighteen in 2022 get screwed by Little Quinn’s lot in life; he would have been a heartbreaker.) The nurses were all older women, mostly in their 40s, except for one: she was a young woman in her 20s, with long blonde hair and a figure that…well, let’s just say that she was not unpleasant to behold, OK? I honestly don’t recall her name (in fact, I only recall one nurse by name, although one whose name I just don’t recall for the life of me does shop in The Store from time to time) so for our purposes we’ll call her “Krissy”.
Many days when I would get home, if any of the other nurses was in charge, Little Quinn would either be on the floor sleeping or sitting in his chair receiving a feeding or something similar. However, on the days when Krissy was our nurse-on-duty, every time I got home, Little Quinn would be in her arms, and invariably she would tell me how she could not go more than five minutes without holding him because that was literally the only way she could get him to not fuss for her. The other nurses? He’d hang out in his chair and be quiet as a clam. Krissy the cute blonde who looked nice in jeans and had a tattoo in the small of her back? Little Quinn insisted on being held by her.
Yeah. I think that kid knew exactly how hot his babysitter was.
Wise child.