The seven-year-old was an innocent cherub. Now she's crafty and sexually curious. In the past week, she's mentioned penises to me. She's asked why I have smaller boobs than her daddy. She's said the word fuck. One of her relatives recently told me she's probably going to be a tramp in eight years.
Once a week, I drive the girls to swimming lessons. This week, they beseeched their mom to take them.
"All Kara does is read or sleep. She doesn't even watch us," they moaned.I don't watch them because, with my 20/400 vision, I can't tell which ones they are. The last time I smiled and made eye contact with one of the swimmers, it was with a particularly feminine boy. I thought it was one of the girls. The other reason I don't watch them is because watching arms and backs progress up and down lap pool lanes isn't fantastically captivating. I'd rather sleep at swimming to avoid falling asleep while driving home. I've crashed into a curb with the girls in the car before. I woke up to them screaming.
Their mom wanted to spend time with her son, the eldest child. Instead of going to the lesson, she supplied me with a camera and instructions to take photos. I took seven sweeping photos of the pool, encompassing every swim group in the place. I assume the girls were in some of them. I then fell asleep sitting up.
During the drive home, the five-year-old cried because the seven-year-old told her she couldn't be in a club that she had yet to create. The seven-year-old screamed because her sister took off her shoe and threw it at her. The five-year-old bawled when her sister said her best friend was their three-year-old brother. I gave them the camera to review the pictures I had taken. My brain waves then ceased conscious thought. I drifted into the awake yet detached state of being that has evolved over the past seven months of babysitting five children.
Five minutes later, when I again became responsive, I realized that the seven-year-old had been taking photos. Of her bare ass. When I confiscated the camera, the five-year-old shrieked that she hadn't had a picture taken of her posterior yet.
"It's not fair," she cried.
Before I returned the camera to the mom, I inspected and deleted the photos. The beginning ones were of the car's interior, then through the window shots of passing bicyclists, a tree, and the street, followed by the inside of their mouths, their baby breasts, and the seven-year-old's ass. One was of her vagina.
No comments:
Post a Comment