17 Nannies Whose Adventures Could Fill a Best-Selling Novel

Some people view nannying as a simple job. Tasks like feeding children, reading them stories, and putting them to bed seem routine. However, that’s not always true. The people featured in our article shared their experiences caring for other people’s children, and now we wouldn’t dream of calling this profession dull.

I was 13 and was babysitting my neighbors’ kids. It was my first time, so the parents walked me through all the rules about the bathroom, TV, food, bedtime, etc. Just as the parents were taking off for the night, the mom came back in and whispered to me, “Don’t go into the basement.” As a teenager in the 80s, my mind went to all of the scariest movies that had basements. I avoided the door to the basement all night until I had put the kids to bed.
Then I walked slowly to the door and put my ear against it. I heard what sounded like whimpering. And then it sounded like sad laughing. I ran to the couch and started watching TV to get my mind off of it, but then I heard something fall in the basement and knew someone was down there. I really don’t know how I got the courage/stupidity to do it, but I went over and opened the door. The whining instantly got louder.
I went down just 3 or 4 stairs, so I could peek down… and I saw… a goat. Not a ghost. A goat. As soon as the goat saw me, he started bleating loudly. It scared me. I went upstairs, and the goat was still bleating loudly, so much that it woke up the kids.
The oldest girl came out and said, “Did you open the door to the basement?” I said, “Yeah, why?” She said, “When you do that, Carlos thinks you’re going to feed him, and he starts yelling.” Thank god I knew it was a goat first, because if she had said that before I went down, I would’ve thought Carlos was some kidnapped person in the basement who would yell for food.
It was very funny to me. The mom came home and I told her what happened, and she almost died laughing. They were repairing the goat pen and had to keep him in the basement for a few days. I still remember every moment of that night vividly. © Unknown author / RedditIn my early twenties, I would babysit a set of twins on the weekend once in a while. Their mom was super beautiful, and she was always going on dates.
One night, she told me she met a guy and was going on a date with him. She left at 6 and said she’d be back around midnight. Well, pushing 1 a.m., I’m thinking maybe she’s running late. 2 a.m., 3 a.m… I’m calling and calling her and finally her phone just goes to voice mail. I wake up, and it’s 7 a.m. and she still isn’t back.
I finally found the grandparent’s number in an address book. I call her parents, and they don’t even seem phased. They just seem annoyed like this is business as usual but tell me they’ll be over to sit with the twins, so I can leave. I call the non-emergency police number and explain what’s going on and that the grandparents are on their way.
I stick around for another hour, and then she pulls up wearing a men’s t-shirt, and heels, and she’s laughing. She says jokingly, “Oh my god! Call the police!” I never sat for her again. She just ended up staying with the guy all night and turned her phone off so she couldn’t be bothered. She truly thought I’d dismiss it like it was no big deal. © Kikabennet / Reddit

  • The dad of the kids I watched liked me on Tinder. Then, when I told his wife, and she didn’t believe me, he convinced her that “his Facebook was hacked.” The kids were almost always wonderful. © marymoon77 / Reddit
  • I work as a nanny in the family of a big businessman. At first, I worked several times a week, then I started living in their house. The head of the family works almost round the clock, his wife doesn’t notice anything but clothes, spas, and fitness.
    Yesterday, their 5-year-old son stole money from his father’s safe, came to me, and said we should run away together. I returned the money immediately, but how to explain to a child why I love him more than his mother, I don’t know… © Overheard / Ideer
  • I’m a nanny, and I heard her first word (it was hippo). But the family won’t ever know that. Some secrets are better to keep. © positivityfox / Reddit
  • First babysitting job at 13. Four kids. My parents gave me a whole fresh salmon to COOK and serve the kids. I learned that day that salmon has pin bones when I had to pull some out of the 3-year-old’s throat while simultaneously calling my parents down the road because I didn’t know what to do, as he was coughing and gasping for air. He was fine, but I think I lost 10 years of my life that day. © nah2daysun / Reddit
  • A lady tried to dump 2 extra kids on me without paying when she realized I was babysitting her neighbor’s kids. Her rationale was that I was already babysitting 2 kids and 2 more wasn’t that much, so I should watch her kids for free and let them eat her neighbor’s food. © CaptDeliciousPants / Reddit
  • I’m not a nanny, but I’ve been babysitting a girl on and off from when she was 5 to 7 now.
    Her: What is that?
    Me: Pineapple
    Her: Oh, I’ve never had pineapple.
    Me: Do you want to try it?
    She does this about everything, too. I asked her mom if she had ever had pineapple, and she was like of course, she has! Then I realized she was just trying to eat my food. © Kacidillaa / Reddit
  • I nannied for a wealthy couple, and the husband had a study in the house that the wife joked about never being allowed in. Now, I’m nosy, and I was curious about why you wouldn’t let someone in a study, especially since it looked like a fairly normal room: big desk, walls covered in bookshelves, books of architecture everywhere.
    So one day I just roamed around in there. I didn’t find anything, and I was kinda disappointed, but then I grabbed a book off one of the shelves. The thing had money pressed between its pages — about $500 if I had to guess. Picked up another book, and found the same thing.
    I think I checked like ten different books, and every single one had money hidden in it. Still not sure if the dude was just paranoid about banks or if he was intentionally hiding money from his wife. © Unknown author / Reddit
  • I babysat two neighbor kids one time. I had a lot of experience babysitting, but it was my first time with this particular family. The little boy was about 5, and the little girl was maybe 7. Their parents left very specific instructions for bedtime, and they were kept on a very strict schedule. I thankfully had my best friend with me at the time, we were probably 15.
    Bedtime came around, and after several warnings, we told them it was time to get upstairs, get into PJs, and carry on with their bedtime routine. They went ballistic. The little boy started tearing the cushions off their leather couch, tossing them everywhere, and biting a hole in the arm of the couch. While I was trying to deal with him, my best friend was trying to get the little girl upstairs when she ran into the kitchen, dumped their entire mop bucket of dirty water on the floor, and started sliding around in it. As soon as the couch-chewer saw the fun his sister was having, he joined in.
    I ended up calling my mom for reinforcement, and never babysat for that family again. © soxxyrocks / Reddit
  • So the father of the kid works for a major athletic apparel company, and every year they need to test the upcoming year’s potential pieces. To do that, the company sends one of every potential piece to all female employees and female spouses.
    Well, the mother is pregnant right now and can’t fit into any of the items, so the father made me a cup of tea and asked me to sit down in the living room (what he does whenever he wants to talk to me about something) and says, “I know we’re not paying you to do this, but would you be willing to test all of the sample pieces my company sent me? You can keep them afterward.”
    Yes! Y’all, no kidding, he just handed me 6 boxes of athletic clothing that have to total thousands of dollars. © pineappleprincesspie / Reddit
  • I was in the living room, watching Sister, Sister,when all of a sudden I heard a man say, “Hello.” I check the front door and look out the window at the driveway, the parents aren’t home. Go upstairs and check the kids, they’re both still in bed.
    Go back downstairs, and hear it again, from the darkened dining room, “Hello, I am Armando.” They had a parrot. © Unknown author / Reddit
  • I only babysat once, and it was nothing horrible. These people had a huge rich house, and everything looked great, but when it was time for the kids’ bed, I figured I’d read them a bedtime story. I searched through that magnificent house and couldn’t find a single solitary book. © TRIGMILLION / Reddit
  • So, it is that time of the month for me. I go into the bathroom, and while unwrapping a feminine hygiene product, the kid yells from outside the door, “I can hear you eating candy in there!” It made my day and made me wish that I was eating candy. © HalleysComet5 / Reddit
  • I was working as a nanny, and the children’s mother once told me, “My husband doesn’t think we should pay you for when the girls are sleeping…” They were 4 months and 2 years old.
    I was a junior in high school and responded, “Okay, so should I duck out once I tuck them in?” I wouldn’t have done that, but I think at that point she realized how ridiculous her request was. © reckate / Reddit
  • I had a phone interview with a mom that went well, so we met in person for a second interview with her husband and 4 children. It went well until she explained her nanny was fired for having an affair with her husband and how their new nanny needed better morals and to limit her interaction with her husband (who was sitting there the whole time with us).
    I’ve never felt more awkward in my whole life as she told me that I’m pretty but thankfully not his type as he just nodded his head. I just find it irritating how it’s the nanny’s fault when her husband also had the affair, and how the nanny needs morals when her husband doesn’t. So yeah, definitely not accepting this job! © thisisdevon- / Reddit

Working as a regular nanny is challenging enough, so imagine being a nanny for a royal family. There are strict rules to follow, such as being allowed to wear only specific types of jewelry.

Animal Bones Started Appearing on My Doorstep — I Set Up a Security Camera to Find Out What It Meant

When animal bones started appearing on my doorstep, my husband dismissed it as a prank. But as they kept coming, fear crept in. I set up a hidden camera to catch the culprit, and what it revealed was far more chilling than I ever imagined.

At 34, what more could I ask for? I had a loving husband who still looked at me like I was his whole world and two beautiful children who filled our days with laughter and sticky kisses. Life was perfect until we moved into that house. George said it was a steal, but from day one, something felt wrong.

A house surrounded by trees | Source: Unsplash

A house surrounded by trees | Source: Unsplash

The first week in the new house felt like wearing someone else’s shoes. Everything was just slightly off.

Our neighbors kept their distance, barely managing a nod when we waved. Even the kids seemed to hurry past our yard.

The streets felt eerily quiet like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

An empty street | Source: Pexels

An empty street | Source: Pexels

“They’re just not used to new faces,” George said, wrapping his arms around me as we watched another neighbor hurry past without a glance. “Give it time, Mary.”

“I don’t know, George. Something feels different here. Did you see Mrs. Peterson literally run inside when I tried to say hello? And the way Mr. Johnson shields his kids whenever they walk past our house?”

“Honey, you’re overthinking it. We left a tight-knit community. This is just an adjustment period. Remember how long it took us to feel at home in our old place?”

I wanted to believe him, but there was something eerie in the air here that made my skin crawl.

Side view of an anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

Side view of an anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

Our six-year-old daughter Emma refused to sleep in her new room, claiming she heard whispers in the walls. Our four-year-old son Tommy, who usually slept like a rock, kept waking up crying, begging to leave “the scary house.”

Then came that first morning. I stepped out to install our new mailbox, breathing in the crisp morning air, when I saw a neat pile of animal bones right on our doorstep.

They looked freshly cleaned, arranged in a deliberate circular pattern. My hands trembled as I dropped the mailbox with a clang.

A pile of animal bones arranged in a circular pattern on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney

A pile of animal bones arranged in a circular pattern on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney

“George!” I shrieked. “George, come here! Right now!”

He rushed out, still in his pajama pants, almost tripping over the doorframe. “What’s wrong, hon?” His face fell as he saw the bones. “Just neighborhood kids playing pranks. Has to be.”

“Kids? What kind of kids play with bones?” I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling suddenly cold despite the warm morning sun. “This isn’t normal, George. Nothing about this place is normal. First the neighbors, now this?”

A startled woman | Source: Midjourney

A startled woman | Source: Midjourney

“Come on, let’s clean this up before Emma and Tommy see it,” he said, already reaching for the garden shovel. “We got a great deal on this house, Mary. Don’t let some stupid prank ruin it.”

“A great deal? Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

The next morning, more bones appeared. Larger ones this time, arranged in a perfect circle.

I stood at the door, coffee mug shaking in my hands, while George examined them. The morning dew made them glisten ominously in the early light.

A startled woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney

A startled woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney

“This isn’t funny anymore,” I said, pacing our kitchen. “We need to do something. What if the kids see these? What if they’re from something dangerous? I found Emma collecting them yesterday… she thinks they’re from a dinosaur!”

George ran his fingers through his hair, a habit when he’s worried. “Okay, okay. Let’s talk to the neighbors. Someone must know something. This has to stop.”

“I told Tommy not to play in the front yard anymore. What kind of mother tells her child that about their own home? I can’t keep them prisoners inside forever, George.”

A worried man | Source: Midjourney

A worried man | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, hey,” he pulled me close, his cologne failing to mask the worry in his voice. “We’ll figure this out. Together. Like we always do, okay?”

We spent the afternoon knocking on doors. Most people barely cracked them open, offering nothing but blank stares and quick head shakes.

One woman slammed the door in our faces when we mentioned our address. The sound echoed down the empty street like a gunshot.

A man ringing a doorbell | Source: Pexels

A man ringing a doorbell | Source: Pexels

Then we met Hilton. He lived two houses down, in a weathered Victorian villa with overgrown bushes and peeling paint. Unlike the others, he opened his door wide and was almost eager to talk.

“Oh, you bought the Miller place?” His eyes grew wide, almost gleaming. “Shouldn’t have done that. That house… it’s not right.”

“What do you mean it’s not right?” I stepped closer, despite George’s warning hand on my arm.

A man staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

A man staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

Hilton leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s something in that house. Something dark. The previous owner… he knew. That’s why he—” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“You should leave. While you can. Before it claims you too.”

“Mary, let’s go,” George tugged at my arm. “This guy’s just trying to scare us.”

“The bones will keep coming,” Hilton called after us. “They always do. They’re a warning! Get out of there before it’s too late.”

A terrified woman | Source: Midjourney

A terrified woman | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t sleep that night. George held me close, whispering reassurances, but nothing helped.

Emma had crawled into our bed around midnight, claiming she heard scratching in the walls. Tommy joined us an hour later, sobbing about scary shadows in his closet.

The next morning, we found a pile of bones in our fireplace. They were scattered across the hearth, some still warm to the touch, as if they’d been dropped down recently.

A pile of bones in a fireplace | Source: Midjourney

A pile of bones in a fireplace | Source: Midjourney

“That’s it,” I said, my hands shaking as I made coffee. “We’re putting up cameras. I don’t care what it costs. Someone is doing this, and we’re going to catch them.”

“Already ordered them,” George replied, showing me his phone. “They’ll be here tomorrow. Best rated online, with night vision and motion sensors. Nothing will get past these.”

“What if it’s really something supernatural?” I whispered, glancing at the kids eating breakfast. “What if Hilton’s right? What if there’s something wrong with this house?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” George said firmly. “But first, we need proof of what’s actually happening. No more speculation, no more fear. We get facts.”

A terrified woman holding her face | Source: Midjourney

A terrified woman holding her face | Source: Midjourney

As we set up the hidden cameras behind the porch plants and on the tree in the backyard that night, George squeezed my hand. “Whatever this is, we’ll face it together. Like we always have.”

“Promise?” I asked, feeling like a scared child.

“Promise. Now let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll have answers.”

The next morning, I woke to more bones on the porch and immediately grabbed my phone. My hands trembled as I opened the security app.

A woman holding a smartphone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a smartphone | Source: Pexels

The footage was clear as day. Hilton, our concerned neighbor, was sneaking up our driveway at 3 a.m. and scattering bones from a cloth bag.

Another clip showed him on our roof, dropping more down the chimney. The timestamp showed 3:47 a.m., his face clearly visible in the infrared light.

“I’m calling the police,” George angrily said, grabbing his phone. “That sick moron’s been terrorizing our family. All his talk about the house being cursed… he was just trying to scare us away!”

A man holding a bag of animal bones | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a bag of animal bones | Source: Midjourney

When the officers arrived and arrested Hilton, his wife broke down in tears.

“He’s obsessed,” she sobbed, seeing the footage on my phone. “The previous owner, Mr. Miller, told him about some treasure before he died. Hilton’s been having dreams about it. He thought if he scared you away—”

“A treasure?” I almost laughed. “He traumatized my family over a treasure? My kids haven’t slept well through the night in weeks!”

“He needs help,” his wife gasped. “He hasn’t been the same since Mr. Miller died. The talk of treasure consumed him.”

A stunned woman seeing a smartphone | Source: Midjourney

A stunned woman seeing a smartphone | Source: Midjourney

After Hilton was arrested, we decided to check the basement ourselves. George led the way with a flashlight, while I followed close behind.

“Stay close to me,” he said, testing each step on the old stairs. “Some of these boards look pretty worn.”

The basement was exactly what you’d expect — dark, musty, and full of cobwebs.

To our surprise, we found a wooden chest under a loose floorboard, just where Hilton had suspected. Inside weren’t gold bars or precious gems, but old copper candlesticks and vintage jewelry, tarnished with age but still beautiful.

Antique items in a wooden chest | Source: Midjourney

Antique items in a wooden chest | Source: Midjourney

“They’re family heirlooms,” the previous owner’s daughter explained when we called her. “Dad was always talking about them, but we thought he was confused in his final days. They belong in a museum. Thank you for finding them.”

That night, George and I sat on our porch swing, watching the stars. Emma and Tommy were finally sleeping peacefully in their rooms, the house quiet except for the gentle creaking of the swing.

“Can you believe all this?” I asked, leaning into his warmth. “A grown man playing ghost with animal bones, all for what? Some old candlesticks and antique jewelry?”

“People do crazy things for money, honey. But hey, at least we know our house isn’t haunted!”

A woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

I laughed, finally feeling at home. “No, just visited by a bone-scattering neighbor with treasure fever!”

“Who’s safely behind bars now,” George added, pulling me closer. “And our kids can play in the yard again. That’s what matters.”

As George and I were getting ready for bed, we heard that familiar scratching sound in the walls. But this time, instead of fear, I was curious. Following the noise, we found an orange tabby cat slipping through Emma’s open window, purring contentedly.

“Well, would you look at that!” George chuckled, watching the cat make himself at home on the table.

A tabby cat | Source: Unsplash

A tabby cat | Source: Unsplash

I squeezed George’s hand, remembering all those sleepless nights. “So this is what was keeping our kids up? A neighbor’s cat?”

“Looks like we solved the last mystery of the house!” he said, wrapping an arm around me.

Sometimes I still check our doorstep first thing in the morning, just in case. Old habits die hard, I guess. But now when I look at our house, I don’t see a mistake or a source of fear. I see home, complete with our occasional feline visitor, who’s always more welcome than bone-scattering neighbors.

A rug on a doorstep | Source: Pexels

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