Mr. Hand, that is.
Honestly, I truly felt like him this weekend. You remember those scenes in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, when Mr. Hand was attempting to reason with Jeff Spicoli? Yeah, I felt like that.
Hubby and I were supposed to go out this weekend. The lady who runs the Preschool Munchkin goes to has a couple of teenage daughters. A few months back, her youngest put up a flyer at the Preschool announcing the fact that she is available for babysitting.
Hubby and I rarely go out. First of all, neither of us have family in town to watch the girls. Secondly, I trust very few people with my kids.
So, when I saw the flyer, and since I know the mom, I thought - this will be PERFECT!
Boy, was I wrong.
This whole fiasco started on Tuesday. I called the girl (her cell number was listed on the flyer) to see if she was available on Saturday. She called back. When I spoke to her, I got my first 'uh oh' vibe. She didn't sound very THERE, if you know what I mean. Anyway, she informed me that she was invited to a birthday party on Saturday, but she didn't know what time it was. I told her to find out and call me back. After all, our plans weren't set in stone. We could do some wiggling around, if needed.
Wednesday, Hubby spoke to the girls' mom when he dropped Kidlet off at Preschool. She told him that if her youngest couldn't watch him, her oldest would, and that they'd get hold of us and get all the details.
Wednesday - no call. Thursday - no call. I finally called the only number I had (the girls' cell phone) and left a message Friday evening, asking that she pass along the message to her sister to call me back. No call. Saturday morning I call the number AGAIN. She picked up! Only to tell me that she's at the store, and she'll call me back in 10 minutes.
An hour later, she calls. She tells me that she had been mistaken, and that the party was on Friday, so she would be watching the girls. Only, not so eloquently. Basically, she said this: "Uh, I was wrong. The party was last night. I'll be babysitting tonight." Yippee.
So, I proceeded to give her my address, which seemed to confuse the poor girl. So, I tried giving her directions, only to be asked the question, "What?"
Frustrated, I asked her how she was getting to my house that evening.
"My dad's dropping me off, I guess."
"Fine. Let me talk to him. I'll give him directions."
"Uh, he still asleep." (btw - it was after 10:00 AM).
"Okay, when he gets up, have him call me, and I will give him directions."
So, hubby and I waited all day. She was supposed to be there by 5:30. At 4:00, Hubby called her number. No answer (naturally). He left her a message, telling her she needed to call us and confirm whether or not she would be there. I ran and picked up a pizza for the girls. By 5:00, she still hadn't called back. Hubby called his friend and his friends' girlfriend, whom we were supposed to be meeting up with for dinner and a movie, to inform them that we wouldn't be going. He called the girl, and left a message telling her not to show up (because, once again, she didn't answer her f*****g phone).
Five minutes later, her dad calls. First, Hubby talked to him. The dad had thought this was a done deal, like in writing or something (his words, not mine). Hubby informed him that we had tried to get in touch with his daughter, but if she wasn't responsible enough to call back, then we didn't want her watching our children.
After that conversation, Hubby and I went upstairs to get out of our "nice" clothes, and into something comfortable. The dad called back! This time, I talked to him. Honestly, now I know where that girl gets her (lack of) smarts. "Uh, I just wanted to know if I should punish her, or anything."
I told him that NO, he didn't need to punish her, and the reason we cancelled was because of her total lack of responsibility. I informed him that I had told her to have him call me earlier, so I could give him directions.
"Do you even know where you were supposed to drop her off?" I demanded.
"Uh, yeah. Uh . . . 501 C....."
"Nope. That's not our address. You didn't even know where you were taking her! You would have dropped her off at the wrong house, altogether."
Yeah - I totally felt like Mr. Hand talking to a strung out, doped up Jeff Spicoli, times two.
I certainly hope this doesn't affect Munchkin in school. And I know I'm going to be labled "The Bitch" at that school. But, I don't care. In all honesty, I'm glad we didn't go out. Because, if we had left our children in that girls' care, who knows what may have happened?