Poisoning Children

My nanny duties aren't exactly detailed. Spoken duties include vague, "if you can" statements referring to laundry, math, and meals. Unspoken duties include keeping two children alive.

So I wake up and decide what I want to do. Then I remember I have children, and I modify my wishes. The modified wishes usually involve the outdoors. With children who would rather read and play video games for all of eternity, this is sometimes difficult. But when I can, I drag the children outside and pretend that nothing we ever do will benefit me in any way. I think they like things that way.

I like to go to this nature preserve nearby.

Mostly, the kids do not.

As we hike along, the smaller one obtains the coveted "front" position and then lets me in on one of his many dislikes.

"I hate gween."

He must be in hell.


But, as it turns out, the kid had a good reason for hating green.

Sometimes green comes in the form of a plant with mitten-shaped leaves. Sometimes that plant decides to eat children's faces.


So the kitchen counter looked like this for the next few days:

And we stayed indoors. Them watching super hero movies, me doing household chores. Awesome.

And I felt for the kid. I did. Poison ivy once devoured my own visage way back when.

But seriously. The boy is not helpless:

Destroy the green!

Bikes to Babies

A few weeks ago I got on a train. Because, honestly. I was so done with Chicago.

You hear that Chicago? DONE. No more of your WIND. No more of your LIGHTS. No more of your CROWDS.

Except for where would I go? My family's in Ohio so... I think I'll go to Missouri.

Wait--What?

I took a train to St. Louis to meet a biking partner and relative stranger. But biking partners are winners always. No need for background knowledge. That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

Seriously. Harmless:

So my harmless stranger and I set off with a notion to head in the direction of Bardstown, Kentucky. Which is sort of silly. Because I had nothing in Bardstown, Kentucky. I had never even heard of Bardstown, Kentucky. But The Stranger had a friend there. And, being merely the annoying tag-along, I had no preference for direction. So ride we did.

And despite the parts where I was convinced I was deranged for deciding to do this little tour, biking was fun. Really fun. And pretty.

And fast!

20? Pleeease. I could beat that with my eyes closed.

...Okay not really. Well I mean, I could. But it would be on a nice downhill. And I wouldn't have my eyes closed.

Maybe he would.

He seems to like having his eyes closed. But not me.

Except for here's the thing about this 'him' guy. You see this seemingly relaxed pose?

Oh um. He's actually in extreme pain. And laying like this because he can't really stand. Let alone ride a bicycle for another 150 miles. Because he is an old man with old man back problems. That flare up at the most inopportune times. Well. I suppose there isn't really an opportune time for one's back to go out...

Anyway. The stranger-inclusive leg of the trip was cut a bit short.

Which is unfortunate. Because now? Well now I'm not exactly on a bicycle touring adventure.

Now I'm a nanny in rural Ohio. Which means I'm a housewife with no husband. Also no catty housewife peers.

And those days when I was thinking I was delusional for hopping on a bicycle to nowhere? My mind is frantically archiving every demented moment. Because I'll need to quickly and efficiently access those moments as I'm making yet another bland, kid-friendly meal or wiping my billionth drop of milk from the table. And it is really too bad that I don't have more archives.

Summer? Start over? Please?

So no. I'm no longer treking randomly across the middle of the United States with a few smelly articles of clothing. In fact. Instead of never having the opportunity to do laundry, I am forced to do multiple loads a day for two dirty little boys.

But you know? At least having lots of clothes to clean means occasionally I get to stumble upon something like this:

Which gets its own little mind archive, you know?

IRON MAN!

Government Money

Okay so my work study job? Not all that difficult. I work weekend college which––contrary to what you may think––does not happen every weekend. Weekend students meet every third weekend, and, unlike us lowly weekday readers, they get meals at Shimer. That's where I come in. Discussing three weeks worth of great books can work up quite an appetite.

But since technically I'm only reeeally working when a meal is nearing... there happens to be quite a bit of free time.

So. Let's review. Lot's of free time, but lots of hours. Only have to work every third weekend. So how did I end up with this job?

Yes, weekend college students just happen to need early mornings to cram in all those intelligent conversations.

Which means they need their coffee started even earlier than early morning.

And their breakfast set out.

In an aesthetically pleasing way of course.

Oh and they're going to need something on which to eat all that brain food. Roll some tables out? Make sure it's before people show up.

You might have to be a little particular about having six chairs at each table...
(all right, maybe that's just me)

And yeah. Those mornings? Saturday and Sunday mornings? I'm not sure if you're aware... but they follow Friday and Saturday nights. So yeah. That's why I have this job.