Today started off much worse than yesterday, and by "much worse" I mean a whole half-hour earlier. That's right, ladies and gents, I woke up at 5:45 AM and was out of the house by 6:15. At that hour, life is not worth living. In fact, I'm pretty sure I wasn't alive, but rather undead.
Anyway, my zombified form made it to the bus stop on time. The ride went quickly and there were no hiccups or wrong turns. I was even the last one on the bus for the final 4 stops before my destination....Which must be why the driver decided to stop for coffee, 1 mile from my stop and 5 minutes before I was supposed to be there. The look on my face when he said he was stopping to grab some coffee must have been something to see, because he immediately changed his mind and got back behind the wheel, and I made it to work on time.
Granny* offered me breakfast, which in this case involved curried green beans, mystery orange curry, rice, and chapatis. It was all delicious, but my poor, cossetted stomach was not prepared for that onslaught at 7:00 AM. Note to self: buy granola bars. We had essentially the same meal for lunch, minus the chapatis and plus a boatload of homemade yogurt. At one point in the not-so-distant past, I deluded myself into thinking I would be happy eating Indian food all the time. I was so naive.
Prita and I were kicked out of the apartment around 9:00 and told--very forcefully--to "walk walk walk walk walk!" We walk-walk-walked for almost an hour, coming back just in time for the power to go out as we walked up to the apartment. Granny was trying to get lunch started and could not figure out why the rice-cooker wasn't working. Try explaining "power outage" without any common words. After I went around pointing to all the non-functioning appliances saying "power: off" and making a chopping motion with my hand, she caught on. The outage only lasted about 20 minutes, though, and the day got back on track.
After Prita's lunch, we were kicked out of the apartment again with another vigorous "walk walk walk walk walk!" Prita was asleep within minutes, but I couldn't make myself turn around and go back to the apartment. I made a tour of the neighborhood, wishing I had brought my book along on the journey. Finally, after 45 minutes of fairly aimless wandering, I gave up and went back, hoping to get some reading in while Prita finished her nap. She woke up as soon as we walked in the front door. Back upstairs, I laid down with her and she was nearly asleep again when Granny walked in, yelling for me to come eat lunch. At that point, Prita gave up on sleep for the remainder of the day and became her usual, hellion-like self.
Other highlights include peeling a basket-full of onions, being chastised (I think) for letting Prita watch me play Angry Birds to get her to sit still for 5 minutes, and seeing a dead body carried out of another apartment while out walking. Good times, all.
Overall, despite some mishaps, it was a much better day than yesterday. Tomorrow should be better yet: it's the last day I work this week AND I don't have to be there until 8:00.
*I should note that in referring to the grandmother as "Granny" I'm not being disrespectful or flippant. (That's reserved for the actual content of my comments.) Rather "Granny" is how the family refers to her, when speaking English. I haven't the foggiest notion what else to call her. Although, she knows to call me "Brittany." Amazing.
6 comments:
Ack! Dead bodies, power outages...
I'm sure the little sweetie will eventually learn to nap, right?
Maybe you'll end up learning whatever Indian language/dialect your employers speak and you could then have trilingual children.
Ooooooo...
With any luck, Brittany, Prita will get so upset with you that she'll a.) spit in your face and tell you that she's going to have her mother fire you (to which you respond, "Do it. I'd love to quit!") or b.) she'll pack a suitcase and run off down the street and around the block before you notice she's gone.
Not that I know this from experience. I think that Prita has a long lost brother in Oak Park though. Just sayin.'
The thing with Prita is that she LOVES me already and she really isn't a bad kid. She's just two years old, full of energy, and completely spoiled by all the adults in the house. I can handle spoiled kids and I could handle her easily, if her grandmother weren't hovering all the time, stopping me from doing my job as I know how.
As it is, I'm doing this through May and then it's over. :o)
I hope you will continue to blog about this nannying gig; I think we have a book waiting to be written. I certainly would buy it!
Good for you, Bethany. Of course she loves you. :) And sadly, while it's easy to get frustrated with the kids, 9 times out of 10 it's really the adult's fault for the kids' behavior.
Prita, watch out. Nanny 911 is about to start. (And I can't wait to read all about it.)
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