I started babysitting when I was eleven. I wasn't what one would call a "good" babysitter, but no one ever got seriously injured or ran away on my watch. When my son turned 11, I had no doubts that he could do 100% better than the job I did. To give him an extra edge, I signed him up for the first Safe Sitter class I could find. He was the only boy in the class. He took one look in the room, saw all the girls, and started to back away slowly from the registration desk. The class instructor gingerly placed her arm around him, led him into the room and shut the door behind her. Eight hours later, I picked up my new Safe Sitter. Reaching for his certificate, I asked him if he felt like he was ready to babysit his 5 year old sister. "Well, I can save her if she's choking." was all he said. I should have been more in tune with his aversion to the question. I should have picked up on the fact that he didn't ask how soon he could start babysitting.