The Johnsons were her first regular babysitting job, and Clarissa found the next-door neighbor twins quite challenging. 

It wasn’t their behavior as much as it was their appearance or their odor. They smelled like kids – like the starch that escapes a Cheerio after it’s softened in a pile of drool. Greasy tendrils of hair clung to their sweaty heads as if they’d just rolled out of bed at 4 in the afternoon. Each time they ran in or out of a room, a waft of tepid perspiration trailed behind them, twisting her mouth into an unmistakable frown.

And their bedroom … God, their bedroom. It served as a protective capsule, housing every fart they’d released since they were born. She dreaded that inevitable hour later, when she’d have to brave that invisible wall of funk to get them ready for bed. She prayed they wouldn’t make her read to them tonight. Last time she was treated to a thumb full of crusted oatmeal resting in the fold of the book jacket. 

“Gross, guys,” she’d muttered.

“GROSS GUYS! GROSS GUYS!” they’d chanted, jumping up and down in their red-and-grimy-white striped pajamas, wearing her disdain as a badge of honor. 

It was that night that she knew she’d never want children. 

This job was no longer the mark of her new teenage independence. She could now see this job for what it was – work. Something to suffer through long enough to be rewarded with cash. 

It was also the night that she knew she’d never want to work.

This is a little piece from my most recent writing class assignment. Try it yourself: Start with the line The Johnsons were her first regular babysitting job, and Clarissa found the next-door neighbor twins quite challenging. Lean in on descriptions using multiple senses.