A doctor was called for an emergency at the hospital and didn’t have anyone to leave her three kids with, but suddenly, she saw the garbageman and got an idea. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she returned home.
“Now? Are you sure Dr. Morris is not available?” I asked Nurse Carey on the phone, although I was already changing my clothes and thinking hard.
“No, Dr. Sanders. Dr. Morris is currently driving across state lines trying to get here. You live close by, so I thought I would call. The interns have no idea what they’re doing. I know it’s your day off, but I didn’t know what else to do. Will you be able to come?” Nurse Carey said, trying not to sound worried, but I knew they needed me.
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“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just need to find a babysitter,” I replied and hung up, immediately dialing Vicky, who was the only person who could somewhat handle my three crazy kids.
I’ve been a surgeon for a long time, but I used to have my husband, Peter. My rock. He became a stay-at-home dad when the realities of having three children became too much. But he passed away from a sudden heart attack while I was in the middle of another surgery.
My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be.
Now, I had to constantly find babysitters for the children when unexpected emergencies happened. I couldn’t handle them. I had no patience, and it was silly to think that any babysitter would be able to handle them either. Two babysitters quit after one day of work, and word got around that my kids Johnny, 9, Christie, 7, and Lucy, 3, were menaces.
I mean… they were not wrong. But they didn’t have to put me in this position. Now, only Vicky ever said yes. Usually, I paid through the roof for the local daycare center when I was scheduled regularly at work, but I couldn’t rush them in today. It was already noon on a Friday, and I would feel bad sending them.
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“I’m sorry, Opal. I can’t babysit today. I’m sick and can barely move,” Vicky said when I called. I told her to get some rest and hung up the phone. I hated the staff at the hospital daycare, and they hated me in return. But I was out of ideas. I would have to wrangle with my children and go there.
But suddenly, I heard all the kids yelling, “Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!”
I sighed. They didn’t have an uncle. The local garbageman was so friendly and sweet that they started calling him uncle as soon as they could speak. I had known him for over ten years, and my kids adored him.
Johnny opened the front door, and all my babies went outside to greet him. I might have to call the hospital, I thought. I was never going to get those kids back into the house to be dressed on time.
But I did smile at the sight of them playing with Bob. My kids had turned into devils when their father died. The therapist said it was normal and would pass, but I wasn’t so sure. I felt like a failure. Like my mothering instincts were faulty or something. I didn’t know what to do.
But as I watched the kids hug and ask Uncle Bob to play, I had an idea. “That’s it,” I told myself and ran to Bob.
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“Bob, I have a crazy request. I know you’re busy. But I was wondering if you would babysit my kids for 25 minutes. I have to check something urgent at the hospital, and I have no one else,” I begged, and my kids looked at me with wide eyes filled with happiness.
“Sure, Dr. Sanders. I can watch them for a while,” he replied, nodding and smiling. My children jumped and cheered.
“They’re more than a handful, though. I’m warning you,” I said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry. You go ahead. Your job is important,” he told me, and I ran off, hoping my house would not be entirely destroyed by the time I returned.
The situation took more than 25 minutes, as Dr. Morris got stuck in traffic, and the patient became even more urgent. I was rushed into an operating room, and I couldn’t get away until three hours later. I felt so bad for Bob, who obviously had his own work to finish.
I drove home as quickly as I could. “Bob! Bob! I’m sorry!” I yelled breathlessly as I opened my door, but I froze.
My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be. My house was always littered with toys, crayons, paper, and sometimes smears of peanut butter. I know. Gross. Don’t judge me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Dr. Sanders, how was your surgery? Everything alright?” Bob asked as he appeared from the hallway.
“What happened here? My house… is unrecognizable. And why aren’t the kids screaming and running around?” I asked, so confused and shocked.
“Lucy is napping, and Christie and Johnny are in their rooms, reading,” he told me, and I swear, my jaw hit the floor.
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“No, go see.”
I had to go, and my eyes couldn’t believe it either. But Bob had told me the truth. “How did you do this?”
“Oh, Dr. Sanders. I was a single father raising kids once. Mine were ten times worse than these three angels,” Bob laughed. “I taught them to pick up after themselves and narrated them fairy tales. Your kids ate that up. You might want to buy them more books.”
I nodded, starstruck. No one in my life had ever called my kids “angels,” and they had never been interested in the few books I got. “I can’t believe it,” I whispered.
“It was easy. But now I have to go,” Bob said, picking up his work jacket from the back of a chair.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pe
“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry about being late. I’m so embarrassed,” I said, touching my forehead. “I’ll pay you triple for that.”
“No. No. I don’t need money,” Bob shook his head, raising his hands.
“Please. For your time,” I insisted with my stern look. People at the hospital were afraid of that look, so I knew Bob would not be able to reject the money.
“Ok, I’ll treat the kids to something nice,” he laughed. “Goodbye, Dr. Sanders. Have a nice day!”
“Thank you!” I yelled out, exhausted.
***
My kids behaved for the rest of the day, and I almost cried. It was the best day ever.
So, I called Bob and offered him a full-time nanny job, tripling his current salary and adding more health benefits since I had connections at the hospital. He accepted in the end, and I was so thankful that I gave him a Christmas bonus and plane tickets to his family could visit Disneyland in California later that year.
SCHOOL EMBARRASSES TEEN OVER OUTFIT—HER DAD’S HILARIOUS REVENGE IS UNFORGETTABLE
In August 2017, Tony Alarcon’s phone rang unexpectedly.
Like many parents, he thought it might be a telemarketer. But this time, he answered the call.
Hearing from the school can be nerve-wracking for any parent. Tony immediately started worrying—was his daughter, Demetra, okay? Had something happened?
What he found out left him surprised.
It was a hot summer day in Northern California, with temperatures reaching 90 degrees. Tony had dropped off his 13-year-old daughter, Demetra, at school that morning. She wore a blue romper to stay cool in the heat, and neither of them thought the outfit would cause any issues.
Demetra, a student at Raymond J. Fisher Middle School in Los Gatos, California, had simply dressed for the weather.
Not everyone agreed with Demetra’s outfit. A teacher at her school said her romper was “too distracting” for the boys.
When the teacher told Demetra that her outfit was too short, her dad, Tony, rushed back to the school with a change of clothes—jean shorts and a tank top. But the school said those clothes were also inappropriate.
Tony was shocked. He asked Demetra to bend over and touch her toes in front of the school administrator. “Nothing is hanging out. There’s nothing inappropriate. I don’t understand this dress code rule,” he told TODAY.
Still, the school said her clothes were “distracting.” Since it was 90 degrees outside, Tony had no choice but to go to his car and grab a pair of leggings for Demetra to wear.
Demetra felt embarrassed.
Tony expressed his frustration, saying, “She’s just a kid. She’s only 13. She’s not trying to be a sex symbol. She just wants to be comfortable and attend class, but we’re not giving her that chance.”
This wasn’t the first time Demetra had been in trouble for her clothes. Just a week before, she was called out for a visible bra strap. “When I got dress coded last week, they said my bra strap was showing,” Demetra told the *San Jose Mercury News*. “Like, I’m wearing a bra—what’s the big deal?”
Tony, a successful investment advisor and father of two, didn’t let it go. Angry at what he saw as an unfair rule that mostly targeted girls, he took his complaint to social media. Parents from all over the country showed their support, agreeing that the school’s dress code was outdated and unfair to girls.
“Demetra’s not the only one. If you sit in the school parking lot, you’ll see that,” Tony said. “Lots of girls just want to be comfortable, but they feel forced to wear leggings even when it’s 100 degrees outside.”
Tony believed that parents, not schools, should decide if their children’s clothes are appropriate. He was also worried about how being told their clothing is a “distraction” to boys could affect young girls emotionally in the long run.
The story quickly got attention from the media, with major news outlets reporting on Tony’s efforts to change the dress code. While the school didn’t speak on camera, they did release a statement:
“The Los Gatos Union School District believes that appropriate dress and grooming contribute to a productive learning environment,” the district said. “Students are expected to wear clothes that reflect the core values of our learning community.”
Tony’s efforts made an impact. His push for change led the Los Gatos Union School District to reevaluate its dress code to make it fairer and less strict for all students.
Lisa Fraser, the school’s principal, explained that the dress code rules, called “Fashion Faux Pas,” apply to both girls and boys. Some of the rules include no hats or hoods indoors, no visible underwear, no inappropriate logos or words, and shorts must have at least 4-inch inseams.
“There has always been a dress code,” Fraser told a newspaper. “These are basic rules for appropriate behavior. I can set guidelines for the school, but I want them to reflect the community’s values.”
In the end, Tony Alarcon’s persistence started an important discussion about how school dress codes affect young girls — showing that one parent’s voice can truly make a difference.
What do you think about the school’s dress code? Have you or your children faced a similar situation? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments!
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