Babysitter Monologue

I can’t think of any reason why my parents would do this to me. I try to think of everything that I have bought this past week, but nothing comes to my mind. I recall the conversation we had, only a couple minutes ago when my parents came barging into my room, offering a deal. Slowly and hesitantly they said “We’ve decided to let you have the dog -- but only if you can earn the money to take care of it.”
I groaned a little, “but that’s hundreds of dollars,” I replied distastefully.
“You've been spending way too much money lately and the only way you’ll learn is if you start earning your own money. Until then, your mom and I aren’t going to buy you things anymore,” my dad said sternly, gesturing around my room.
“So you're like, cutting me off? ” I
Back to the present, I plop my laptop onto my bed and start searching up business ideas. Many great ones came up but only one of them really caught my eye. A babysitting business. It’s perfect, I thought to myself. I start calling all the people on my street who have children and ask them if they need a babysitter. My rate was 7$ an hour. It is hard going, but I soon have about 5 people who are willing to give me a try. 5 people. It might not be a lot, but at least it’s something.
Today is my first job. Walking out the door, I acknowledge the butterflies in my stomach. This isn’t going to be hard, I think, trying to be optimistic. I almost fool myself. When I walk up the steps of the Monroe’s, the butterflies have turned into wild animals, clawing at my insides. I knock on the door, and a friendly and familiar face looks back at me. “Hi Aaron,” I say nervously. With a squeal, he runs away from the door, leaving it open. Was that normal? Mrs. Monroe invites me inside with a warm smile. She gives me a bunch of information about her whereabouts, that I try very hard to listen to, but my ears roar with