I do sometimes worry about the number of different women who have been involved in minding our children over the years. Michael never really bothers to get to grips with their names but always calls the current incumbent, “the babysitter” despite parental protests.
Over Christmas he accidentally knocked off the wall a picture in his room which features nine women’s heads – details from well-known larger pictures – like the Madonna of the Rocks, the Girl with the Pearl Earring, the Lady with an Ermine.
He conveyed the news of this catastrophe to me as follows: “Mummy, I’m very sorry but I knocked down the picture with the photos of all the old babysitters on it.”
Michael is reminding me of Miranda in The Devil Wears Prada, who calls all her assistants Emily.
Maybe a manny would be more memorable?
My children had great fun recently listing out the names of all the babsitters and minders they have had since we arrived in Bxls. It was embassarssingly and shamefully long, I thought, but they seemed delighted with their powers of recall.
It’s just as well they have recall since I can’t remember at all…how about you?
Well, maybe, but I doubt it.