ADVENTURES OF A FAT KID! THE NANNY

HE WAS SO CARING AND NURTURING. HE WAS OUR NANNY AND WE LOVED HIM UNTIL HE TURNED ON US..........A STORY OF MURDER, DECEPTION, AND UHHH WETTING ONE'S SELF.

 

The Nanny

 

     My dad had to deal with kids all day long! He came home every day with his hair standing up and his face in a frown. He was a school teacher, and he was often exhausted at the end of the day. When money got scarce, Dad got some terrible news. Mom decided to go back to work in the evening which meant that he would have to baby sit the fat kid and the infamous Shelly. I had my doubts about my father’s qualifications as an adequate care provider. He had once cooked me a grilled cheese sandwich, and it had turned out to be black and extra crispy. I was not optimistic about our new nanny. If he wanted my approval, then he would have to earn it.

     Day by day, Dad proved to be an awesome babysitter.  He would ask us what we wanted for dinner and Shelly would yell out “French Fries,” and I would scream “Potato Candy!” Dad would just smile and say, “French Fries and Potato candy coming up!” My father could rock the kitchen. Evidently the grilled cheese sandwich had been a fluke. He made the best potato candy ever, and he even taught us how to make it. It was kind of gross actually with not so tempting ingredients. With two cups of mashed potatoes, powdered sugar, and peanut butter, we would make a concoction that would probably make Martha Stewart ill. One taste though, and you were hooked. 

     As we sat and finished our last bite of the white candy perfection, Dad announced that there would be a game of “paper tag” after dinner. My father was a genius with kids and knew how to keep them entertained. He had invented a game that every kid in the universe would love. “Paper Tag” was the name and dark stupidity was the game. We would turn every light in the house off, and each of us would have a rolled up newspaper. 

     The object of the game was to find each other in the dark and hit your opponent with the newspaper sword. It was like laser tag without the lasers. Ok, it sounds stupid, but heck, this was before we had cable TV! We had to entertain ourselves with silly games or watch a very blurry channel three news. Even though our game was juvenile, it was great fun. The first person to get touched by the paper sword was out, unless you ran into a wall, and then you were knocked out. It wasn’t the safest game. I remember falling down the stairs a few times and breaking my big toe. My sister, who was terrible at the game, used up about seven of our cat’s nine lives. She would swing at anything moving, and unfortunately, Elvira enjoyed lurking in the darkness. We retired the game after Elvira finally lost an eye and a few whiskers. She continued to be tube fed until her untimely death in 1989.

    Games only kept us interested for so long, and Dad knew that he was going to have to get creative. What he came up with would haunt me and my sister for years to come. He decided that he would take us to the movies during the evening. My sibling and I were very happy to eat the popcorn and drink the coke, but the goodies came with a price. The movies that my father chose were very inappropriate for children. I wanted to see “Care Bears”, but somehow we ended up watching a much scarier movie. It was called “Children of the Corn.” As we entered the dark theatre, I was stupidly excited. I loved corn and especially on the cob, so I just knew that I was going to love this movie. The joke was on me I guess. 

     As I watched, I realized that this flick was not about corn, pop corn, or even corn bread. It was about a bunch of kids who murder their parents with axes and knives. As I watched the bloody scenes with half covered eyes, the storyline was starting to make sense to me. I was not happy with my father, and I was considering stabbing him with my switchblade comb. It was all I had on me! Then, he handed me a Junior Mint and all was forgiven. Shelly sat there petrified and didn’t say a word. She had pissed her pants twice and was ready to go home. 

     When the movie was over, we all piled into the old truck and went home. It was so foggy and dark outside that our imaginations ran wild. Shelly screamed as she noticed a dog by the side of the road. She yelled out “A bear, a bear!” As we got closer and the doggy barked, she hid her face in shame. It was just a creepy night, but it was not finished.

     Upon arriving home, Dad did something that I still question to this day. He drove by our house, up the old dirt road, and parked by our garden. He said, “Kids, I’m going to pick a few ears of corn for our lunch tomorrow.” Dad got out and disappeared into the darkness of the corn rows. All I could see was my sister shivering and the old scarecrow that seemed to be smiling at me. I thought it to be very suspicious that he would go pick corn after the murderous corn movie we had just viewed. After a few minutes, Shelly and I were so terrified that we could barely finish the left over Skittles that were occupying my fanny pack. Dad finally appeared with an armful of corn, and we let out a sigh of relief. As we drove back to the house, I made an oath to never eat corn again. Of course, I broke that oath the next day as I devoured five ears all by myself. Like I said, I like corn.

     That night, my sister and I huddled close to Dad in bed. There was no way that we were sleeping in our own beds. Shelly was still feeling the bed shake up and down because dad had taken us to see the “Exorcist” a week earlier. I, on the other hand, was scared crapless of the corn movie, demons, and werewolves. All that together equaled me sleeping with my parents until I was twenty. 

     As we laid there protected by our dad’s massive arms, we couldn’t sleep. It was partly because dad kept farting, but mainly because of the deadly pictures in our heads. We pleaded with our father to tell us a story. He was a great storyteller and very imaginative. On this night, we really needed a sweet tale about Pooh Bear, but what we got was a story that scared the pooh out of us. Dad began the story with an evil laugh that caused my sister to wet herself for the third time that night. 

     He proceeded to tell us about a mother who killed her step kids and the father who ate them. The plot was gory. Evidently the mother wanted all the attention, so one-by- one, she killed the kids and cooked them up. The unsuspecting father would eat the special dinner every night until all the kids were gone. As each kid would come up missing, the wife would have an excuse.  The father finally goes out looking for his kids and hears voices chanting “My mama killed me, my daddy ate me! My mama killed me, my daddy ate me!” That is pretty creepy stuff. It still gives me chills. Anyways, the father finds the remains of his kids under a big rock, and he goes insane. He grabs the axe and goes home to take care of his murdering wife. 

     Shelly and I sank into the covers, and we prayed for sleep. As we snuggled closer to our demented father, we felt safe. Even though he had caused us such fear, we knew that he would protect us from the evil that lurked under the bed. As I drifted off, I had a nightmare about the demon girl from the Exorcist. She was throwing up corn and chanting “I ate your father!” It was a weird dream, but funny at the same time.

     Dad was our nanny for about four years. That was just long enough to turn my sister and I into complete lunatics. He wasn’t always politically correct, but we always had a blast with him. We continued to play many dangerous games, and we saw many other horrifying movies together. Shelly pissed her pants a total of 243 times (I kept a chart for future reference). I gained thirty plus pounds from Dad’s dietary meal plan. Those adventures were some of my best memories, so it was worth all the insanity.

     Eventually, Mom quit her job and came home to resume her motherly duties. The grilled cheese was perfect again and there were evening games of Rummy and Scrabble. Apples and oranges were substituted for my beloved potato candy. Things were almost back to normal. Notice I said “almost.”

      It seems that my sister was still feeling the bed shake and had become fed up with her demon possessed room. She had complained enough to Mom and Dad that the decision was made without even consenting me. I had to switch rooms with her. My blue bachelor pad would now be occupied by my over dramatic sister. Her pink palace was now mine. As I moved my dresser and took down her Michael Jackson poster, I wondered what the big deal was. Shelly had been possessed for many years. I had heard her speak in strange tongues, and I had seen her levitate. Where else would Satan’s spawn rather dwell than in the pink hell room. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper. 

     Shelly was very satisfied with her new room. It had a better view and was closer to the bathroom. She was content. Of course, I had to get revenge, so I planned it carefully. Every few days, I would sneak into her room and get under her bed. As she would turn off the light and get under her sheets, I would initiate the terror by pushing the bed up and down. Then I would chart it, 244, 245, 246……………………

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Dylan James]

That was wonderful. I remember being about three or four and seeing "Children of the Corn 3" I think that's which one it was. The one with the beast behind the rows or something like that. I could sleep for about a week. I probably wet myself just as much as Shelly did, and woke up barfing a couple times too. This was a very enjoyable read. Keep telling wonderful stories.

[Wolfwind Words]

This was cute! How evil do siblings get, and truly told, the way of many fathers burning the grilled cheese!
Great Job!