The queen is dead! Long live the queen!
Lots of change in the castle these days. Last weekend, our au pair fulfilled the terms of her year-long sentence, was allowed to leave the dungeon, and received parole to a halfway house in Maryland, which is probably new construction. Her new warden is a 27-year-old new mother with a French manicure and a husband named Josh, and I think they'll all be really happy together. Of course we will never forget her. (See: Giant coffee stain on the carpet.)
Aie! On the one hand, it really was a little bit sad. She'd been living with us for a year, which is not a short time, and I did very much appreciate that the babies loooved her. On the other, every single day I would come home and find a small round sticker 0249 Apple Washington State stuck to the side of the kitchen sink or counter top. I would scrape it off, carry it to the garbage, and think... not very nice thoughts. But that's petty, isn't it? See, I am petty. I should just be thankful. Practice gratitude!
Anyway, the new au pair is German. We may have discussed my insane preoccupation with the German people. Well, thankfully it turns out I was wrong. It's actually the French that I don't like. (I'm kidding! Kidding! Mon dieu.) Anyhoo, I don't want to commit myself to any hopeful feelings but so far I will say that I think she's lovely.
She likes: Green grapes, blue cheese, H&M, and bicycling.
I like: Oh, my God! The exact same stuff!! almost.
One interesting thing: We have had a little problem with mice -- mice! not rats! -- in the basement dungeon where our hired help is forced to live. We are slowly killing them with 50-cent snap traps and peanut butter. (Eight down... 149 more to go.) David is the appointed (but reluctant) executioner. To avoid accidentally touching dead fur during disposal, he ties a long piece of floss to each trap. Clever, huh? Anyway, this was a pretty disturbing process for the old au pair... But the new au pair? This weekend, she opened the sprung trap herself, shook a broken body into the garbage bag, and set it for Mickey #9 without blinking.
And she sings!
(My grandmother -- the Irish one -- used to like to talk about what a catch my brother was. She'd says, "He's so good-looking! And so smart!" and then she'd add -- with lots of emphasis, "And he sings!")
In other news, I went to the very best bridal shower on Saturday. Clotted cream! How lovely! When I got home, Dr. Lucy, Esq., asked all about it. "Did Auntie Cynthia get lots of presents?" Oh yes. She even got cake sprinkles! She nodded happily and then asked, "And was she running all over the place?"
"Yes! But there was no moon bounce."
"I know that!"
Pause. "She's a grown up!"
Aie! On the one hand, it really was a little bit sad. She'd been living with us for a year, which is not a short time, and I did very much appreciate that the babies loooved her. On the other, every single day I would come home and find a small round sticker 0249 Apple Washington State stuck to the side of the kitchen sink or counter top. I would scrape it off, carry it to the garbage, and think... not very nice thoughts. But that's petty, isn't it? See, I am petty. I should just be thankful. Practice gratitude!
Anyway, the new au pair is German. We may have discussed my insane preoccupation with the German people. Well, thankfully it turns out I was wrong. It's actually the French that I don't like. (I'm kidding! Kidding! Mon dieu.) Anyhoo, I don't want to commit myself to any hopeful feelings but so far I will say that I think she's lovely.
She likes: Green grapes, blue cheese, H&M, and bicycling.
I like: Oh, my God! The exact same stuff!! almost.
One interesting thing: We have had a little problem with mice -- mice! not rats! -- in the basement dungeon where our hired help is forced to live. We are slowly killing them with 50-cent snap traps and peanut butter. (Eight down... 149 more to go.) David is the appointed (but reluctant) executioner. To avoid accidentally touching dead fur during disposal, he ties a long piece of floss to each trap. Clever, huh? Anyway, this was a pretty disturbing process for the old au pair... But the new au pair? This weekend, she opened the sprung trap herself, shook a broken body into the garbage bag, and set it for Mickey #9 without blinking.
And she sings!
(My grandmother -- the Irish one -- used to like to talk about what a catch my brother was. She'd says, "He's so good-looking! And so smart!" and then she'd add -- with lots of emphasis, "And he sings!")
In other news, I went to the very best bridal shower on Saturday. Clotted cream! How lovely! When I got home, Dr. Lucy, Esq., asked all about it. "Did Auntie Cynthia get lots of presents?" Oh yes. She even got cake sprinkles! She nodded happily and then asked, "And was she running all over the place?"
"Yes! But there was no moon bounce."
"I know that!"
Pause. "She's a grown up!"
posted by Mary Ellen at
6:18 PM
9 Comments:
It was the loveliest shower, partly because I finally got to meet you!
How do you have mice when you have a cat? Oh, wait, my uncle does too, but then he refuses to kill the little guys.
Looking forward to lots of fun news about The German Invasion.
One rule on dealing with Germans: keep mum on any events that occured between, oh, 1938-1945-ish. I've learned that the hard way.
I'm guessing you should also steer away from phrases like "The German Invasion." Yeah. They'd all indignant and German-like over that, I'd bet.
Cute 3-year-old and 2-year-old German hybrids excluded from stereotypes, of course.
Kathryn -- How nice! It was so nice to meet you too. (I hope the trip to the beach goes well!)
Shelly C -- Kitty Cat used to be a wild cat, forced to actually kill her own food. Now she pretends that was some other cat. She wants her Weight Control meow mix in a bowl.
Meg -- This girl is so young that she probably thinks the Wall is something they play on oldies music stations... We will have much to discuss!
Who is this Other Kathryn???
Oh dear...
It's like I'm cheating on you, Kathryn #1.
Hmmm, so wearing my WWII We Can Do It shirt to the house? Or the "Krush the Krauts" one?
You seem to forget her big like- the gym. Is that a shared one?
I think you can use Old Nanny's elevation in the world to your advantage. "A year with us qualifies you to nanny for a trophy wife!"
Never was there a more artful segue from dead mice to bridal shower.
It was indeed a lovely shower if I do say so myself (which I just did) but I have a feeling it pales in comparison to the bridal shower we attended in Lucy's head. ;-)
That was me up there in that orphaned comment above. Me no type good.
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