I tell my babysitter dirty jokes. With a stupid little grin on my face. I have made them up all on my own, and I am proud of this, and of shocking her.

I also ask her dirty questions, very dirty questions. I ask her if girls can masturbate like boys can. I ask her if she has ever had a sexual disease.

BABYSITTER BY MYLES ZAVELO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 69

I tell my babysitter dirty jokes. With a stupid little grin on my face. I have made them up all on my own, and I am proud of this, and of shocking her. 

I also ask her dirty questions, very dirty questions. I ask her if girls can masturbate like boys can. I ask her if she has ever had a sexual disease. I ask her what a wet dream is. (Have you ever smoked marijuana? What is marijuana? Can I spit on you?)

My babysitter complains to my mom about my dirty mouth, and dirty mind. I thought there were secrets between us. But I’m only eight years old, and secrets just don’t exist yet. 

I worry that I am in love with my babysitter. 

I have this dream: 

She is on a bed in a black skirt, no shirt, pink nipples, her beaten tennis shoes. Her long black hair comes undone. Then the dream ends.

Facts ab…