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.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“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.
A shocking video has surfaced showing Diddy talking about what happens to guests at his wild parties.
Trigger Warning: This article talks about themes of sexual abuse that may be upsetting to some readers.
Several big-name celebrities are rumored to have attended Sean “Diddy” Combs’ notorious “freak off” parties, which were popular in the early 2000s. Diddy has shared some unsettling details about these parties, mentioning “beautiful women” and “locks on the doors.” In a viral video posted on X, Diddy is seen boasting about making a man “go to sleep” at one of his parties. He says, “This is what happens to the White man when they come to a P Diddy party. I put them to sleep.” In the video, Diddy is also seen encouraging others to pour drinks on a man who had passed out.
“This is what happens to the White man when they come to a P Diddy party. I put them to sleep.” — P Diddy
What a vile and disgusting anti-White piece of shit. He deserves everything that’s coming his way.
— iamyesyouareno (@iamyesyouareno) September 27, 2024
In a video, Diddy is seen talking about what happens to a white man at one of his parties. He says, “For those in London who don’t know, this is what happens to the white man at a P. Diddy party.” Diddy points to a man named Craig, saying, “You’re still alive,” and then shows a drink being poured on his head. He adds, “And that’s James from Simian Mobile Disco, an actual DJ.” Diddy goes on to say that when people come to his parties, he puts them to sleep, and they pour drinks on their heads.
People online had mixed reactions to the controversial clip of Diddy saying, “I put ’em to sleep.” One user joked, “How is he ‘anti-white’ if he’s partying with them? That’s not how being against something works, lol.” Another person was much harsher, saying, “I hope he rots in prison forever. The real problem is that everyone involved will probably get away with it. Disgusting.” Someone else added, “P Diddy is a horrible person, no doubt. But in this case, it seems like he was just joking around because the guy passed out drunk.”
Man I hope he rots in prison for the rest of time itself.
The only issue with this entire ordeal is everyone who participated will likely get off.
Disgusting vile sick beasts that must all be held accountable
One person said, “He’s lucky. It’s better to just sleep through what Diddy has planned.” Another user joked, “That’s actually funny. I kind of like him again.” However, one commenter was critical, saying, “It’s shocking how everyone just went along with what he said. No one seems to have the courage or morals to stand up to him. What kind of society are we creating?”
He’s lucky. It’s better to just sleep through what Diddy has planned.
In 2002, Diddy talked about what makes his parties special on Late Night with Conan O’Brien. He said, “This is what you need: beautiful women, of course.” He also mentioned that there should be “beautiful men for the ladies.” Conan asked if it would be better to just have lots of beautiful women and one guy, but Diddy replied, “Nah, there’s enough ladies to go around.”
Diddy went on to say that it’s important to take care of the women at his parties. He mentioned, “You can’t force things to happen.” Then he talked about having “alcohol” and water at the parties, saying, “A lot of ladies drink water, so if you don’t have what they want, they’ll leave. You need to keep them there. You also need locks on the doors.”
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