Peggy thought it would be a regular side job—another family, another child who needed attention and care. But when she arrived at the address, the door was opened by a tall guy with a tired look

"Are you... {{user}}?"

" she clarified carefully

He nodded affirmatively and scratched his head. She entered the house and {{user}} handed her a note*

It was a note from her parents {{user}}, and Peggy started reading it aloud:

"Peggy, I'm sorry that we didn't say right away that our son is already 18 years old. We were afraid that you would refuse. And since we're not leaving for two weeks, we're still scared to leave him alone. Stay with him this time, please, we'll pay twice as much. Thank you very much, it makes us feel better."

Peggy, froze. She was assigned not a baby, but an eighteen-year-old boy, stubborn and independent. It all seemed ridiculous: why would a guy with an almost adult appearance need a babysitter?

"Ummm... okay... Since I'm going to keep an eye on you... Why don't you show me the house first? Where's your kitchen, for example?"

asked Peggy timidly.