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.
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“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.
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“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.
Tom Jones opens up about his marriage and love life after wife’s passing
After Linda’s death, Tom cancelled all his concerts and released a short statement:
Wife’s passing
“Surrounded by her husband and loved ones, she passed away peacefully,” the Sir Tom’s website wrote.
But last year, Sir Tom opened up on her tragic death. In an interview with This Morning, the Welshman said he would “never love again”.
His wife’s passing really crushed him and he struggled to perform on stage long after Linda was gone.
“When my wife passed away, I didn’t think I could sing,” Sir Tom explained. “When you’re emotional, you can’t sing, your voice closes up.
“There are certain songs I wouldn’t do. But you have to try and get things in the right perspective. Feeling emotional; use it to your advantage and put it into the song.
Now lives in London
“It took me a while,” he continued. “Took me a few months to try and see if I could sing. I got some of my musicians around and tried a few songs. But it was very emotional.”
Linda’s passing also had other consequences – Jones decided to sell their big mansion in Los Angeles, along with all their furniture, in order to move back to the UK.
Today he lives in a flat in London – that was Linda’s wish. His late wife had been homesick and wanted to move back to her roots, but cancer took her life before it was possible.
“She always said she wanted to come back and then she could not do it, so then she told me to do it in the last week she was alive,” said Sir Tom, who was married to Linda for 59 years.
There is no doubt that Jones still mourns Linda, whom he married at the age of 16. The couple met when Linda was 15.
Speaking to Radio 2, Sir Tom described the moment he first saw his wife-to-be:
“I remember her playing marbles and I thought, ‘My God, what great legs she’s got’. She was the best-looking girl around there and we got together. It was magic”, the singer said.
Linda and Sir Tom tied the knot as teenagers, just a month before their son, Mark, was born.
But their marriage would be rife with scandals and infidelity. For more than 50 years, Tom cheated on his wife.
om, who assumed the role of sex symbol, has previously admitted that he slept with 250 women a year at the peak of his career.
“From the very beginning, he was not exactly Mr Faithful,” biographer Sean Smith told Daily Mail in 2015.
It’s unclear how much Linda knew about her husband’s shady side, but it is clear that she suspected something wasn’t right. According to Sir Tom, the couple had a “don’t ask” policy when he was on tour.
”Linda lived a quiet life and rarely left the couple’s villa in Bel Air. During her single marriage to Tom, she has also had alcohol problems,” Robin Eggar, who wrote the official biography of Tom Jones, told the Daily Mail.
After 2003, the wife stopped accompanying her husband on his tours and remained mostly at home in the couple’s Bel Air mansion.
By then, she had already endured several scandals that must have tarnished their relationship.
In 1987, Tom Jones had a three-day fling with the 24-year-old Katherine Berkery, during tour in the US. According to reports, Katherine had no idea he was married and Tom refused to return her phone calls when she discovered she was pregnant with his child.
Nine months later, Jonathan Berkery was born in New York, in June 1988. Sir Tom denied he was Jon’s dad and refused to admit that it was his child.
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