The Weirdest Babysitting Job

Four Minutes Late

Hamna

March 17, 2026•3 minute read

Lloyd had always believed that babysitting was the easiest job in the world.

In his mind, it worked like this: you sat on a couch, the kid watched cartoons, and every now and then you reminded them not to climb on furniture or eat something strange. In return, you got paid.

Simple.

And Lloyd needed money.

For the past three weeks he had been staring at a brand-new gaming controller online. It had glowing buttons, extra triggers, and the kind of grip that serious gamers talked about like it was treasure. Unfortunately, treasure required money.

So, Lloyd had volunteered to babysit.

Now he stood outside his neighbor’s house, the Carter family’s place, on a quiet evening. The porch light glowed softly above him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glanced at his watch.

Then he reached forward and rang the doorbell.

A chime echoed inside the house.

Lloyd waited.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the door opened.

But it wasn’t Mrs. Carter standing there.

It was Tommy.

Tommy was three years old. Small. Round-cheeked. And currently staring up at Lloyd with the serious expression of someone reviewing an important appointment.

“You’re four minutes late,” Tommy said.

Lloyd blinked.

He hadn’t expected the kid to answer the door.

And he definitely hadn’t expected the kid to say that.

“Uh…” Lloyd said.

Before he could figure out how to respond to a three-year-old who apparently owned a watch and a schedule, Mrs. Carter hurried into the hallway behind Tommy.

“Oh good, Lloyd, you’re here!” she said quickly.

She was already grabbing her purse and her keys at the same time, moving around like someone who was late for something important.

“Tommy’s already had dinner,” she continued, walking past them. “Bedtime is at eight. There are snacks in the kitchen if he gets hungry.”

She paused only long enough to smile.

“Thank you so much for helping.”

And just like that, she rushed out the door.

The front door closed.

The house became quiet.

Lloyd stepped inside slowly, still a little confused about the four-minute comment.

Tommy didn’t seem confused at all.

He marched straight toward the living room like a tiny manager starting his evening routine. He climbed onto the couch, grabbed the remote control from the table, and turned on the television.

Lloyd leaned against the doorway, relaxing a little.

Good. Cartoons.

That meant Lloyd could sit down, maybe check his phone, and survive the next few hours without much effort.

But instead of a colorful cartoon intro, the screen filled with a serious news anchor sitting behind a desk.

“Good evening,” the anchor said. “Tonight’s top story—”

Tommy sat back on the couch, watching carefully.

Very carefully.

Lloyd stared at the television.

Then he looked at Tommy.

Then back at the television again.

This babysitting job had been going on for less than five minutes.

And it was already much stranger than Lloyd had expected.