Tuesday, October 11, 2005

teenage dirtbag babysitter

hoodiesSo, tonight we're off out to the El Salvador benefit, leaving O in the hands of a neighbouring 16 year old. J keeps his head covered at all times - the one time I saw him without a beanie or hoodie on, I didn't recognize him. He is trying manfully to grow a facial hair feature but it's a bit too bumfluff yet. He looks like the kind of youth the Daily Mail warn you about, and he is an extremely nice young man. Did well in his GCSEs1, just started college, wants to go to university. Is nice to the little kids, even plays with them sometimes. Is of course O's all time hero, who makes him want to be a dude.

So I am not worried about leaving O with him (plus I know he has babysitting experience, and his mum will be at home a few doors away). I'm just worried about what provisions to supply. My mum always laid out a tray with snacks etc for the babysitter. I'm not going that far, but as I can't get in wine like I do for grown up babysitters (much as I'm sure he'd like it!) I txt Trin for advice on what to feed teens. Apparently their staple diet is coke, dorritos and jaffa cakes, so I'm off out to Asda to stock up.

J looks like he spends his weekends hanging out with in Cathedral Gardens. I hope he does, it's goth-sk8r-mosh2 heaven (Abby needs to go there, as soon as she's finished in Afflecks [noisy link] - it's like a walking advert for Afflecks). They all dress up like freaks (or is that phreaks?2) and hang out. Yay. I would a hundred times rather O grew up like that (whatever the version is of it in 10 years time), with some spark of individuality, than some anodyne top-40-listening, topman-wearing, consumerist, trafford-centre-hanging-outer, kind of teen.

1. Showing my age there, nearly typed O-levels
2. Excuse any inappropriate use of teenage vernacular, but you get the idea

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