"I wish Jon was not one of those testosterone driven teenage boys."
Meanwhile Jon had made it to the mall where he was taking in the view while waiting for something to do. This meant that Jon (like nearly every boy his age) was trying to see down girl's tops or up their short skirts; without appearing to stare at the girls.
Jon noticed Mrs. Robertson, one of his neighbors, who was struggling with her five children (all under age five). She obviously needed some help.
As Jon stood up from the bench he had been sitting upon, he shook his head as he noticed what he was wearing. 'I thought I had worn different clothes.' Jon thought noticing that he was wearing his normal pair of white deck shoes with his slim-legged jeans rather than the bulky high tops he had for some reason thought he had been wearing. Ignoring that thought, he went over to Mrs. Robertson.
What Jon didn't notice was that he had changed. He had been pretty much your typical 16 (well almost 16) year old boy, standing about 5'9" in height and weighing in at about 140 pounds. Puberty had gained a strong hold on Jon's life, his voice had changed from his boyhood low alto to a much deeper low tenor and he had lost most of his baby fat and he now looked more like a young man rather than like a child.
But that was before his mother's wish that Jon not be "one of those testosterone driven teenage boys." Without the testosterone that turned young boys into men, Jon had grown neither as tall nor as 'manly'. He was now over five inches shorter and twenty-five pounds lighter. His voice remained in the high alto range and he had kept a lot more of his baby fat, giving him a much more feminine look.
"Hello Mrs. Robertson." Jon said. "You look like you could use some help."
Mrs. Robertson glanced up at the youth before her. She thought she had seen the youth around the neighborhood, but wasn't sure.
Sensing her confusion, Jon said. "We are neighbors, I live in the green house two houses down from yours. I am J.J." Jon said, deciding that he liked the sound of that better than Jon.
Before Mrs. Robertson could respond, her youngest started to cry.
"I'd guess he is wet." J.J. said.
"I suspect you are right, J.J." Mrs. Robertson said. "I have a couple of items to buy but my sitter quit on me last night."
"If you'd like, then I could watch the children here while you do your shopping." J.J. offered.
Mrs. Robertson looked at J.J. She knew that girls that age often baby sat and J.J. seemed to be capable. Making up her mind, Mrs. Robertson said, "Okay. I should be too long."
For the next hour Jon was kept busy with the five children. He was surprised at how enjoyable he found taking care of the children. Even more important, the children seemed to enjoy being with him.
As Mrs. Robertson returned to where she had left J.J. and her children she paused. Her children really seemed to enjoy spending time with J.J. and J.J. seemed to be good with her children. J.J. wasn't like her last baby sitter, who was a woman not much younger than she was. Linda and been very good, she cooked, cleaned, and knew all about hair and other stuff that young girls liked. 'But then I bet that girls J.J.'s age know that sort of stuff too.'
"J.J.," Mrs. Robertson said after saying hello to her children, "I was wondering if you would consider baby sitting for me. I could use your help starting about four in the afternoon until midnight, Monday through Friday, and every other Saturday between noon and midnight. I pay $1.50 a child per hour, that is $7.50 an hour. Are you interested?"
