Our new baby sitter’s mum (1)

When our first daughter, Phillipa, was just two she realised that my husband, John, and I always sleep naked. From that day she refused to wear pyjamas in bed. When Phillipa’s baby sister, Mary, came along, she was, of course, wearing a nappy (=US diaper) to bed until she was nearly two, but thereafter we put her to bed naked too.

The girls evening routine was bath, tea, story time, bed. Since they were naked for their bath and for bed they insisted, and we accepted that they remain naked for tea and story time.

When Phillipa was five and Mary was three, a single mum, Helen, and her 13-year old daughter, Wendy, moved into the house across the street from us. Wendy was already a well developed beauty, and her mother, Helen, was obviously where Wendy’s beauty came from; at 30 Helen was still stunning.

When we invited Helen and Wendy for dinner that first night it was partly altruistic on our part, but also partly self-interest; it would be great to have a baby sitter living so close to us. When Helen and Wendy arrived, our two girls were, of course running around the house naked. Neither Helen nor Wendy seemed surprised to see a 3-year old and a 5-year old naked in their own home.

As the evening progressed we learnt that Helen had gone through a traumatic divorce a few months earlier. She was reluctant to say too much about it, perhaps because she did not want to turn Wendy against her father. Towards the end of the evening, I raised the possibility of Wendy babysitting for us, and mentioned that we would pay the going rate (about $50 for a Friday night). Helen and Wendy both seemed keen once the offer of money was on the table. Maybe money was a bit tight in their house?

I contacted Wendy the next day to ask if she could babysit for us on Friday night. She agreed and turned up at about 6pm on Friday. I was preparing the girls’ meal and asked if she would be willing to bath my daughters. She disappeared into the bathroom with Phillipa and Mary. I heard lots of shouting and laughing and finally 15 minutes later, they all emerged.. Phillipa and Mary were very happy, but Wendy was soaking wet. My little monsters had splashed her, mercilessly.

“Wendy. Why don’t you take those wet clothes off and pop them in the clothes drier?”

“Oh! I couldn’t do that. What if Mr Smith saw me?”

“Well, first of all, please call my husband John, and me Naomi. Secondly John will certainly look at you naked, every chance that he gets. After all, he is a man and you are very beautiful. However I can promise that apart from smiling whenever he sees you naked he will not say or do anything to embarrass or offend you. The drier’s in there.”

Wendy disappeared into the laundry and reappeared naked shortly afterwards. She supervised Phillipa and Mary’s meal then took them into the living room for story time. When we left Wendy, still naked, was sitting in the living room with our two naked beauties sitting on her lap and playing with her nipples while she read to them from their favourite book of fairy tales.

We had told Wendy that we expected to be very late home, and that she was welcome to sleep in our spare bedroom. When we got home, at about 1am, Phillipa and Mary were asleep in their beds. We looked in the spare bedroom and there was a naked Wendy lying on the bed without any covers over her. It was a hot night after all.

Next morning she came into the kitchen where I was preparing breakfast, still naked. She went into the laundry and took her clothes out of the drier.

“Why don’t you leave them off until you’ve had breakfast?”, I suggested.

“Wouldn’t that be naughty?”

“Not in my opinion.