Totzilla
(10th January, Story #10/366.) A babysitter gets more than she bargained for.
"You're the boss, don't let him manipulate you!" she said. I tried to look confident and sensible.
It wasn't my first babysitting gig, but it was my first time minding an actual baby, and for longer than a couple of hours.
I'd taken a first aid course so I would know what to do if choked on something or a bead strayed up his nose, or a hot drink spilled on him. But these things worried me less than the more ordinary, likelier things. The world of nappy-changing was alien to me. What if he missed his mummy, and cried for hours?
She buzzed about in a cloud of expensive perfume, scribbling emergency numbers and firing off last-minute instructions about nap-times and codes for the alarm.
I waved at the back of the sports car, a smile plastered over the cracks of my nerves, with the infant on my hip as if I did this all the time.
Before we got back indoors, the screaming started. What had Gisele had said? I tried to decipher her scribble; a feed was not due for... two hours...? Reluctant to use the entire stash of breastmilk so soon, I bounced him, cooed, and checked his (thankfully clean) bottom.
I gave in less than fifteen minutes later. He sucked down a bottle with gusto, protesting loudly when I tried to wind him. What would happen when the bottle was empty?
He slept! Hey, this isn't so hard.
We fell into a pattern, nothing like Gisele's military schedule. Scream, feed, sleep, repeat.
Unnoticed at first, he was growing the whole time. After his third milk-fuelled coma-nap, he was twice as big as he'd been when I arrived, and he seemed to be picking up momentum.
When Gisele called to inquire after his welfare, and inform me she was delayed and could you possibly stay longer darling? I squeaked agreement, watching him force his bulk through the kitchen door. The doorjamb splintered in his wake.
By the time she returned, police, firefighters, soldiers and neighbours were blocking the street. Helicopters whirred around the sprog who wouldn't now fit back inside. The garage creaked as he pulled himself up.
So, anyway... I quit.
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Word count - 366
Submitted on 11th January at 00:12
* * * Author's Note * * *
As always, thank you for reading! I sincerely appreciate your eyeballs and engagement. I try to reciprocate all reads, so please leave a comment to make that easy for me. If you enjoyed it, the best compliment you can give me is to * * share it * * , or read another.
The story behind the story: I'm writing a story every day this year. This is my eleventh. I'm enjoying it so far. I didn't use a prompt for this one.
If you are joining us in these shenanigans, please link to your piece for today in the comments. (Polite request not to comment with a link otherwise - it's a bit of a pet peeve of mine.)
MY JANUARY MICROFICTIONS
3rd: One Day, I Just Disappeared
I'll come back and edit to add links to other people's efforts here 👇
If you need inspiration, I've done a list of prompts for January here:
About the Creator
L.C. Schäfer
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Summer Leaves (grab it while it's gorgeous)
Never so naked as I am on a page
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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!
Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz
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