I’m a snoop. I know it, accept it and, sometimes, cultivate it. I want to know things. Privacy is overrated. As a babysitter, I get a lot of opportunities to snoop. I put the kids down for a nap or to bed and I get to search the homes. I’m careful in leaving things the way I found them.
Dabria and Campbell, an overly loving couple in my opinion, usually call on me a few times a month to watch their brat, Destiny. The kid really is a disaster but Campbell pays me more per hour than my other clients so I do it.
Tonight they are on one of their date nights. Whatever. Destiny ran around and threw things for nearly an hour. I managed to get her in bed with the promise of chocolate. Yes. I gave her candy in bed. I never said I was the best babysitter. Half an hour later she was asleep. I wiped her chocolate-smeared face.
I decided to start the snooping in the bedroom. The closet. You’d be amazed at the things people hide in their closets. At the bottom of the closet was a striped box. I opened it. It was stuffed with photos. Dabria and Campbell. But there was something weird. A lot of the photos were them with two old people. There was one with them standing under a family reunion banner with those old people. And the photos went back. They got younger and younger. Always together. Then it hit me. Shit. Dabria and Campbell were brother and sister. Just awful. I love being a snoop.
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