"Head. Coming. Soon. Head. Coming. Soon." Monkee
"Good Clean Fun"
I took a taxi back to UCLA and met my parents for lunch. During the meal, I told them about the interview and the fact that I was going to have to stay with someone as their babysitter for two weeks before school started. Let me tell you, that didn't go over too well with my parents! They wanted to meet with whom I'd be staying right away. My mother said that until she did meet them, I wasn't allowed out of New York again.
We called Mr. Nesmith when got back to our room in one of the dormitories. His wife answered the phone. I introduced myself as the young lady whom Bob and Bert referred to. She said that they had called earlier and told her about their idea. She said that it would be fine with her, but she would like to meet me before giving me the job. I told her that my parents had the same idea and that I wasn't allowed to even go to college without meeting her and Mr. Nesmith beforehand. She suggested that my parents and I come over for dinner that night. I asked my parents who thought that was a great idea. Mrs. Nesmith gave me directions to their house and set a dinner time for 7:00 p.m..
Later that day, my parents and I took a taxi up into the HollyWood Hills. We saw all kinds of famous peoples' houses. My mom was even taking pictures, but all the while my dad was telling her that they would be blurred because the car was moving. Mr. and Mrs. Nesmith lived in a modest home at the end of a road off the section where all the stars homes were. It was a nice modern, two-story house. Later I was to find out that the studio had put them up in that house until they could afford to buy one.
We rang the doorbell promptly at 7 o'clock. Mrs. Nesmith came to the door dressed in a frilly white dress. She greeted us warmly and invited us in. I introduced my parents and she told me not to call her Mrs. Nesmith, Phyllis would do just nicely. Then Mr. Nesmith walked in with a pair of faded blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and a green wool hat. He had a very distinct Texas twang. I'm sure that I sounded just as strange to him with my Yankee accent. I also introduced my parents to him, and he also told me not to call him Mr. Nesmith, Michael was what he preferred.
While Michael was talking to my parents about the babysitter's job, Phyllis took me into the baby's room.
"This is little Christian," Phyllis said as she was picking him up.
"Oh, he's so adorable," I interjected.
Christian laughed and cooed. "He's a good baby. He hardly ever cries," she said.
"Good. I babysat one baby who cried all the time!" I said.
"I'm glad that you've had experience with watching infants. I was a little worried about having someone so young watching after him," said she.
"I'll take good care of him," I said with a smile.
Christian looked just like Michael. He had big brown eyes and thick black hair. I could tell he was a happy baby because he smiled a lot. Phyllis put him down for a nap, and then we went into the dining room for dinner. What was to happen next was to be a very memborable moment in my life.