Such is the day in the life of a nanny with three little boys.
(Side note: Betcha guys didn't quite know what you were getting yourselves into with this blog, huh? Since I am no longer caring for the equivalent of a bread loaf -- we all know how much I love the itty bitty ones, but they're sort of like loaves of bread that eat, poop, and sleep -- there are a lot more nanny stories coming your way now that I have actual conversations with my charges.)
There comes a crucial time of day, after the little boys nap, post-snack but pre-dinner, when it is imperative to "do something." Staying in the house idly is not an option because chaos will ensue. Quickly. So even though we only have approximately one hour before we need to be home again in time for Bean's dinner, we go through the whole process of schlepping three squirmy boys into shoes, coats, and the stroller to exit the house for forty-five minutes. It might not seem worth the effort, but believe me, the alternative is much worse. Since it was raining today, most other reasonable people decided to stay inside. Jeeze, what kind of nanny takes three small children outside in the drizzling rain when she could just line them up nicely on the couch for a quick viewing of Sesame Street before dinner? THIS ONE. So there we are, riding three boys on one stroller, to one of my favorite playgrounds that the boys had never been to before. When we got there, it was blessedly empty. (Did I mention it was spitting rain and most reasonable people were smart enough to not be outside? Yeah, not us.) I let the older ones out and told them to do whatever they pleased and breathed a sigh of relief as Bean and I were able to quietly wander around the playground while his older brothers climbed every ladder and slid down every (wet) slide. Until, of course, the imaginations started working and LM came up with A Plan.
"Caywin! Um, um, um, me and Bee are going to be firefighters, okay? And you and Bean need to be in a burning building and we're going to be firefighters! And we're going to save you! Okay?!"
"Alright, sounds like a good idea, bud. Gimme one second."
<Bean and I wander over to some sort of isolated play structure and stand inside. I notice, with a quiet sigh, the crowds of people walking past the playground (this is New York, after all). I clear my throat.>
"HELP MEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! BEAN AND I ARE BURNING UP IN A HORRIBLE FLAMING BUILDING!!!!! Fireman LM and Fireman Bee! Can you come save us???!!!"
<Passersby double-take. I take a deep breath and keep yelling. Loudly.>
"PLEASE HELP US!!! WE'RE BURNING INTO CRISPY TOAST!!"
Firemen LM and Bee gleefully run over, pulling their imaginary hoses behind them. Fireman LM makes loud whooshing noises as he puts out the fire and Fireman Bee helpfully holds out a small paw for me and Bean to cling to as we escape the burning building. In case you're wondering, Bean has found this entire experience slightly more interesting than the snot bubble in his left nostril. Once we are safe and the flames are utterly extinguished, the game ends.
"Caywin! Can we do that again???!!!"
Sigh. Only about 2323489084309 more times. And then it was two minute warning. Then one minute warning. Then "Who-can-touch-the-stroller-the-fastest-wins!" And then the four of us made our sloppy, rainy way home, flush with the contentment that only putting out fires can bring.