When the new babysitter arrived, my husband was ecstatic—until he noticed who was waiting at the door. He was unaware that his little joke was going to backfire in the best possible way because I had planned every moment.
Hello, my name is Anna. I’m thirty-two, and I considered my life to be fairly normal until recently. My spouse, Jake, and our three-year-old twins, Olivia and Max, reside in a peaceful suburb of Illinois. Even though life hasn’t always been ideal, I’ve always tried my hardest to keep things together. That’s what I thought, anyway.
I’ve been married to Jake for six years. When we first met in college, he was engrossed in computer science projects and I was studying early childhood education. He now follows the typical dad routine, works in IT, and makes a respectable living. Around dinnertime, he arrives home, tells a few jokes, hugs the kids, and then spends the remainder of the evening in his man cave.
Since the twins were born, I have been a stay-at-home mother. I used to convince myself that it would only last until they turned three. However, anyone who has had toddlers understands the true nature of the situation. It’s a never-ending jumble of beauty, fatigue, and mayhem.
Returning to work seems more like a far-off dream, the kind you imagine while late at night cleaning tiny socks of blueberry stains.
Every day, Jake leaves work at precisely five o’clock. He walks into the house, tousles Max’s hair, says something along the lines of “Hey, sport,” throws his backpack on the couch, and vanishes behind the door with a blue light that practically yells, “Do Not Disturb.” He considers that area to be his personal haven and gaming room.
What about me? I take care of everything else. Cleaning, meal preparation, diaper blowouts, temper tantrums, laundry, pediatrician visits, cooking, preschool applications, grocery shopping, and bedtime stories. Since 2021, I haven’t urinated by myself.
But somehow, I’m the one who “needs to put in more effort” or “looks tired.” Jake is the hero who is “tired from work,” in the meantime.
Last month, the change began.
I can still clearly recall the moment. My phone buzzed while I was folding what seemed like the hundredth towel of the day while the twins were sleeping. Jake had texted me about it.
“Hey, the guys are coming over tonight. Just a relaxed evening with beer. Could you create something respectable so I won’t feel ashamed?
That was all. Please don’t. No warning. Just a yelled request as if I were his helper rather than his spouse.
After a long moment of staring at the screen, I almost yelled back, “Make your own freaking dinner.”
Instead, though, I inhaled. Okay, I decided. Give him his beloved little “boys’ night.”
I decided to roast a whole chicken. I made my own fully seasoned, oven-roasted rotisserie instead of the store-bought variety. I made two salads (yes, two), made my own garlic mashed potatoes, and even laid out chips and salsa as if I were serving at a potluck in the neighborhood. The entire house had a Thanksgiving scent by the time the doorbell rang.
I greeted his friends, Mark, Brian, and Kyle, the new guy from his office, with a courteous smile before picking up Max, who was having a fit. To begin their bedtime routine, I brought both children upstairs.
I could still hear their voices coming and going from the baby monitor in the kitchen. Bottles clinking, loud sports banter, laughter, and a few stupid jokes. Until I heard my name, I ignored it.
“So,” said someone, most likely Brian, “will Anna be returning to work soon? Do you guys intend to seek assistance with the children?
Silence fell for a beat. Then I heard Jake’s loud, informal voice.
“I hope so, man. I’m sick of being the only provider in this household. We might hire a babysitter. I hope it’s a hot one. I adore beauty.
Laughter broke out. You know, the kind of laughter that burns your cheeks and hits your ears.
Jake chuckled as well.
My hands remained frozen on the baby monitor as I stood there. My face became hot and my chest constricted. I wasn’t upset. Not just yet. I was simply astonished. And humiliated, too. That sting that just sits there, creeping under your skin.
I remained silent. Not on that particular evening. Nor the following morning.
However, his voice continued to replay itself in my mind like a broken loop.
“I hope it’s a hot one. I adore beauty.
A few days later, I leaned in and casually dropped the bait while he was eating cereal at the kitchen counter.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, grinning a little. “I’ve been considering… I think I’m prepared to return to my job.
His eyes widened as he looked up in the middle of his bite. “Really?”
I gave a nod. “Yes. The children are now three years old. The time has come. In order to make the kids feel at ease, I suppose we should start looking for a babysitter.
His whole face became radiant.
He asked, half-excited, “Are you really okay with that?”
I smoothed out a napkin and said, “Oh yeah.” “It will be beneficial for me to resume making financial contributions. And at last, we’ll receive assistance in this area.
Jake practically jumped around in his chair. That’s fantastic! I’ll assist you in finding the twins a babysitter. I am aware of what to look for: a professional, responsible, and experienced individual.
I sipped my coffee and shot him a gentle glance. “Obviously. Professionalism is crucial.
He was on it in an instant. In the days that followed, Jake started to be suspiciously helpful. He would browse babysitting websites as if it were a pastime. Throughout the day, he continued to text me “options.”
Each profile picture appeared to have been taken from the cover of a yoga magazine.
“Certified yoga instructor with experience in holistic play and organic meal planning” was the exact description given to one woman.
Jake sent it to me with the caption, “She seems qualified ,” and a wink ”
I blinked once, looked at my phone, and typed, “Oh yes. She appears to have a lot of experience.
He didn’t know.
Like he was holding a casting call, he kept hurling screenshots, links, and names at me.
I realized it was time to start my plan at that point.
I made a few calls last Thursday while Jake was at work. I found someone who was intelligent, trustworthy, and attractive—all qualities he obviously desired.
One small twist, though, caught him off guard.
All of this was in place by that afternoon. While the twins were sleeping, I sent him a text.
“Hey, sweetheart! I’ve found a wonderful person! I believe you’ll be content. The babysitter is the perfect fit for you. Just the one you were searching for.
He responded right away.
“Can’t wait to meet her 
. Only the best for our kids.”
And I sat there, my heart thumping slightly, a tight smile on my lips as I stared at his text.
since the babysitter was scheduled to arrive tomorrow.
Furthermore, Jake was unaware of what was actually in store for him.
Early that day, Jake returned home. The first hint was that.
He never leaves for home early.
Not unless it’s something he’s anticipating or something significant.
In the living room, I was using one hand to fold a load of laundry and the other to try to stop Olivia from using a marker to draw on the walls. I knew exactly what he was doing the moment I heard the garage door open an hour earlier than usual.
Then the smell hit. He only wore his pricey and potent cologne to office parties or date nights. The second clue was that.
When he walked in, I didn’t even look up.
I flicked a pair of Max’s little socks into the laundry basket and remarked, “Wow, you look… refreshed.”
Jake laughed, feigning indifference. He stroked his newly combed hair. “You have to leave a positive impression, don’t you? When will she be arriving, then?
I glanced at the microwave’s clock. “Any minute now.”
He fiddled with his button-up’s collar. It was his one nice shirt, the deep blue one that makes his eyes stand out, rather than his typical business shirt or casual t-shirt. Even the jeans he wore didn’t sag from sitting in front of the PlayStation for two days.
The third clue.
He was making an effort. Hard.
The doorbell rang.
I put the wash basket down and grinned. “Oh, just the right moment. Are you prepared to meet the new nanny?
Jake gave a single clap of his hands, as if he were getting ready to welcome a king or queen. “Definitely.”
With the kind of poise I’d been saving for this precise moment, I opened the door.
Chris was standing there. He had a nice smile and was tall, athletic, and well-groomed. He had a tidy folder of printed references and was dressed in khakis and a pressed polo shirt. He had the appearance of someone from a television serial about good-natured fathers who enjoy saving puppies in their free time and are skilled at almost everything.
He joyfully said, “Hello!” and held out his hand. “Mr. Daniels must be your name. I am the babysitter, Chris.
Jake’s head was grinding to a stop, and I could hear it.
He blinked as he tried to take in what he was seeing.
Jake glanced at me and then back at Chris before saying, “Hello?” “Hold on. Are you the babysitter?
Without wasting a beat, Chris nodded. Yes. I have a bachelor’s degree in child development, am certified in CPR, and have coaching experience in Little League. I am eager to collaborate with your spouse and children.
Jake parted his lips, but nothing came out.
His expression was halfway between confused and terrified as he looked back at me.
“I thought—uh, I thought you said…”
I grinned and cocked my head. “Remember, honey? You mentioned that you were hoping for a cute babysitter. I discovered one as a result. I was unaware that you were referring to a lady.
Chris simply smiled, bless his dear soul. “Oh, I see. Thank you! I understand that quite a bit.
In about five seconds, Jake’s face changed from pink to red. His lips moved, but he was at a loss for words that wouldn’t seem utterly foolish.
He stumbled, “Well, I’m sure you’re great, man, but I don’t think we really need…”
“Yeah, but we do!” Happy as ever, I interrupted. “You stated it yourself. We require assistance. And he is just what we require. You’re not bothered, are you?
Jake found himself stranded. I saw him struggle to get out of the corner he had placed himself in, but he was unable to do so.
“No, no, of course not,” he said, his shoulders rigid.
“That’s fantastic!” I remarked, playfully clapping my hands. Can you begin tomorrow, Chris? Around one, the kids go to sleep, and I would really like to get some rest.
“Definitely,” Chris nodded courteously. “Looking forward to it.”
We talked about schedules, logistics, and the kids’ routines for a few more minutes. Chris had a natural talent. He even inquired intelligently about Max’s fascination with dinosaurs and Olivia’s particular eating habits.
With his arms folded, Jake stood silently as if his favorite toy had just been taken.
There was a heavy hush in the home when Chris left.
In the corridor, Jake turned to face me at last. “Are you serious?”
“How about?”
His eyebrows went up. “About employing him. A man? To be a babysitter? What were you thinking, Anna?
I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed. “Why not? He is attractive, skilled, and professional. Didn’t you say that was what you were searching for?
His mouth tightened. “That isn’t amusing.”
I took a step forward and gave him a direct look. “What you said in front of your pals wasn’t either. Or the way you treat me in my own house like a glorified maid.
Jake parted his lips, then shut them again. There was no way for him to get back. Like a pouting adolescent, he simply muttered something about “double standards” and entered the kitchen.
The best part, though? The following day, Chris got started, and he was fantastic.
The children fell in love with him right away. In five minutes, Max was clinging to his leg. Olivia dubbed him “Mr. Chris,” as if he were a cartoon character, and forced him to sit through a tea party.
Chris did more than merely toy with them. In addition to reading bedtime tales and cleaning up after meals, he even replaced the squeaky cabinet hinge that Jake had been promising to fix for three months. Three months in total.
That night, I observed Jake from the hallway. His gaze flicked over the top pages of the book toward the playroom every two minutes as he sat on the couch with it in his lap.
Jake closed the book and glanced up at me when Chris eventually left.
Are you simply going to keep him around, then?
Grinning, I leaned on the counter. “Well, until I meet someone more attractive.”
For a moment, Jake’s jaw dropped wide, but he remained silent.
For the remainder of the evening, he didn’t talk to me.
I awoke the following morning to the aroma of pancakes and coffee. Already dressed, Jake was packing Olivia’s snack bag in the kitchen.
He was returning home earlier by the end of the week. An entire hour, not just five. He began bathing the children, making blanket forts, and asking them questions. He was preparing dinner when I came in one evening. actual dinner. Not pizza that has been frozen.
I folded my arms and rested against the doorframe. “What have you done with my husband, and who are you?”
With weary eyes and a sheepish smile, Jake looked up. He said, “I understand now.” “I was a complete jerk. I apologize as well.
A pause occurred. To rub it in, he seemed to be waiting for me to bite back. However, I didn’t.
“I’m glad you’re learning,” I whispered softly as I approached him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
We no longer have a babysitter. Chris was flawless; it’s not that he wasn’t. However, after a few weeks, I came to the conclusion that we didn’t really require one.
We truly needed Jake to realize how much I had been bearing. I wanted him to see how invisible I had become and how simple it is to take someone for granted when you think they won’t ever leave, change, or resist.
My spouse did make a joke about wanting a cute babysitter. He is now well aware of how that feels. And he won’t ever say that joke again, I promise you.
