Pretty Sitting

Two and only two babysitters ever sat for my two brothers and I on the extremely rare occasions Mom and Dad did something without us. Mom’s youngest brother Alan did it once when he was a single guy but we must have traumatized him. This is marginally possible but I don’t think Eric, Mark or I were that clever.

Margo and Pat both lived in our neighborhood known as College View in Elmhurst, so named because we could view Elmhurst College. In fact, what we could see was the back side of its chapel at the end of Utley road, way across a big empty field. But the name had a nice cache to to it, sort of smart I think.

In terms of a favorite, Pat was favored over Margo. Pat made popcorn for us. Margo did not find that task part of her job description. Pat laughed when Eric and Mark wrestled in a manner reminiscent of mortal combat. Margo told them to stop or she’d bean the both of them.

Personally, Pat was best because she not only WORE jewelry. She told me during one babysit that she had some jewelry she would GIVE to ME, provided I went to sleep.

This was on a Friday evening, I recall precisely. The following morning, which was a Saturday, I walked to her house for the first time in my 9 years and knocked on her door. She was not at home. The following morning, which was a Sunday, I walked to her house. She was unavailable. The following morning, which was a Monday, I walked to her house in the afternoon after school. Her Mom told me that Pat would call me soon. I was beginning to get to know Pat’s Mom so I believed her.

Pat did NOT call Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday OR Friday. I had no choice. I went to Mom and flooded her bosom with sobs until she agreed to call Pat and get me in there.

The following morning, which was a Saturday, I walked to her house and knocked. She didn’t look as friendly as I seemed to recall but she did bring out a jewelry box, picked out a gold stretch bracelet with a gold etched heart on it and she gave it to me.

I have it still. Pat was the best.

About Mrs. Fitz

Hello! I'm Michele Fitzpatrick, a Chicago writer. Like our town, a work in progress. As a journalist, teacher and writing coach I think all of us live our stories and sharing them creates moments that remind us we're connected. And that is enough.
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