Babysitting Dad aka Watching" Bonanza"

I was never a babysitter growing up. Either I didn't like small children or no one trusted me with theirs. Although, as I look back it would have been a nice way to earn some extra cash, as my allowance was 25cents which got me a coke and no fries. I was always mooching fries off my friend's plates at the local deli . I became impervious to the dirty looks and "hey, buy your own." I could take the nasty comments but not the thought of entertaining little kids, herding them into bed and then sitting in a big old house until their parents returned. That sounded difficult and I was certain the Boston Strangler was lurking outside waiting for me to be alone in the living room. Nope, no babysitting for this girl, I wanted to live to get my braces off and shave my legs.

Flash forward 50 years and I'm called to duty. Yes siree, I'm older, not afraid of the Boston Strangler but Freddie Kruger, no longer yearn for french fries, have straight teeth, usually shave my legs, and have been called upon to babysit my father. My Mother was off to New York and didn't want to leave the poor guy alone. She's 92 and hopping a plane to visit her brother. Dad's 89 and likes TV. "Go Mom go", I'm thinking as I watched her spend hour upon hour deciding how many outfits to pack , what shoes to schlep and of course make the laborious decision of what jewelry to bring. Meanwhile back in the living room, my babysitting project is asleep in the black leather chair with a Bonanza episode blaring. "Bye Mom, I hope you wear everything."

Dad didn't do much. My job consisted of watching him move from chair to chair to chair. Uh oh, where'd he go? I lost him - but would ultimately find him in a different room in a chair....asleep. He also frequented the refrigerator a lot. He's a big juice drinker. He likes to mix concoctions of pineapple, apple, orange, pomegranite, pear, peach, and apricot juice. Yuk, but it could prove profitable. "Dad, maybe you should open a juice bar?" He wasn't interested. I desperately tried to tempt him with a glass of wine at dinner to perk things up. "Is that Mogan David?" he would grumble. "No, try it, just take a sip," I would urge. He would take less than a sip and spit it out. "It's horrible, I only like Mogan David." "But Dad it isn't Passover," I pleaded. I didn't know if I was doing a good job. My Mother called almost every two hours to check my work. "I think he's asleep," was my usual response. "Mom did you wear the black dress with the red jacket yet?" I liked to keep the conversation interesting for her since Dad was unavailable.

I don't think my Dad would recommend me as a sitter. We didn't do many fun activities. I still remain confused as to what the job "babysitter" really means. Surprisingly, I did realize that it is never too late to catch up on old Bonanza episodes.