i was a little kid at the time. something extremely rare happened. for some reason, i was left alone in the house with a babysitter. this did not happen in our house. my parents had seven children, and never needed to hire a babysitter. except that one time when i had mumps and it was my brother’s wedding and they found a friend of mary’s who already had mumps and she stayed with me while everyone else was having fun at the wedding. that day really sucks in my mind. but then, every sibling whose wedding i did not attend, ended up with a bill of divorcement. don’t ever leave me out, if ya wanna stay married.

is what i’m sayin’.

so anyway, getting back to the original story. i was way younger when this event happened. and it was even rarer, cause my aunt, who lived in florida, was in new jersey visiting us. everyone in my entire family went somewhere. i can’t imagine where, and if i asked them now, no one would have a clue. maybe it was some distant cousin’s wedding they all went to. anyway, they were gone. and i was left with my aunt. who was really beautiful and exotic. she had extreme hair, straight black and down past her butt. she never wore it down, of course. we only saw it when she dressed in the morning, before she rolled it up into a bun, or a snood, if you will.

it was night time. when she was babysitting. as usual, i was bored. and also kind of excitable since this experience was so new to me. there was a book. maybe she brought the book for a gift. probably that was it. i wouldn’t have been too thrilled with the book. for some reason, that neck of the family was always giving kinda lame gifts. only when they didn’t give money. the money was good. the gifts were kinda lame. so anyway, there it was on the kitchen table. i remember looking at it and not feeling a thrill inside. maybe i felt disappointment, but i was willing to play along. cause she was so nice.

my aunt grew up in italy. when she was seven years old she moved to new york city. she spoke italian and english. when she grew up she met a southern baptist wacko guy who became my uncle bill. he lived in florida. so my aunt moved to florida. she developed herself into a southern belle. she now spoke with a southern flare. and that niceness.

it wasn’t phony. well anyway i am rambling on here. about that book, it was a barbie book. barbie, the doll. i didn’t care for barbie. she was too large for my taste. i liked tiny things, like those trolls you could buy in the five and dime for 10 cents. they came 3 to a pack and were an inch long, plus hair. i would take them out back and build mounds in the dirt under the swingset. then i would push holes in the mounds with my finger. these were the bedrooms for the trolls. they could fit in there nicely. later when i grew up and found out about the “moundbuilders”, an ancient civilization of north america, i could totally relate. they are part of my lexicon.

so it was with mistrust and skepticism that i approached the barbie book and asked my aunt to read it to me. she, of course, was delighted. and she read with gusto, and she read it more than once at my request. the book was about a barbie who had to babysit some little girls. but at the same time she had homework and was having such a dilemma. she had to write a short story for her english class. but these girls were keeping her so busy. and then when the kids finally fell asleep she wondered, what the hell will i write my essay on. and then it appeared in her mind like the lightbulb, i will write about a barbie who has to babysit two very rambunctious children. so that’s what she does and her story and homework are all finished. i thought it was absolutely brilliant what that barbie did. and it was my first writing lesson and i probably didn’t learn another thing since then. the end.