2003-12-04
a dolts
Once upon a time I was a nanny.
The theory that I am an adult was questioned (by the children, thank goodness, rather than their parents) and I tried to answer by showing my license.
"Yeah, right," they answered, in their three- and six-year-old wisdom. "So you're old.* That doesn't mean you're not one of us."
And my mom and dad and sister and brother have all perfected the Art of Silly.
They've rubbed off on me, as I to this day will open my mouth and show my food if a toddler asks what I'm eating. And I understand the importance of tickling and the value of making faces. And I still think it's funny when my brother makes me laugh so hard that Diet Coke comes out my nose.
The children here have all decided that I'm just a really tall kindergartener who happens to have some modicum of authority.
So why do adults always have to ruin everything?
*"Old"? What!? I almost made them stop driving the golf cart at that one.
betholindo at 9:07 p.m.