One morning, while I was watering plants on the porch, Claire stopped me. Lily was on her hip, grape juice smeared down her shirt, chewing on a Barbie shoe. “This is random,” Claire said lightly, “but would your mom be up for watching Lily a few afternoons a week?”
“Babysitting?” I asked.
“Yeah, just a few hours here and there,” she said, waving it off. “Daycare’s been a nightmare.”
That night, I mentioned it to my mom over dinner. She paused, sipped her tea, and said, “Well, I don’t need much.
Just something fair.”
The next day, Claire came over with a bright smile and said, “How about eighty dollars a day? Cash. No paperwork, no drama.”
My mom agreed.
She even wrote “Claire babysitting” and the amount neatly into her notebook. She went out and bought crayons, fruit snacks, and little toys so Lily would feel comfortable. She was excited.
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