Dear Wendy,
So it's been a couple of weeks now that I've been working for you, and I really appreciate the job. Your daughter is really fun and cute (so is your husband, for a grownup), she's only cried once since I met her, and overall, it's going really well.
However. There are two things that, well ... have had me awake since 4:26 a.m., and I'd like to bring them to your attention because they're obviously bothering me.
1. Can we just address the elephant in the room? I'm poor. Government assistance-style poor. Yeah, I know that. You're kind of rich. Belonging to a country club in Long Island-style rich. And I'm cool with that, really. Rich lifeguards in Long Island are hot - I like the perks of this job. Your air-conditioned house, your entire wall of books in the study, the never-ending supply of Poland Spring water, the shopping we do at fancy stores in Manhasset and Roslyn, etc. It's all great, and thanks for bringing me into your world.
This does not mean I'm going to steal from you. There are so many reasons why I won't, but it should suffice* that I am telling you I won't. No offense, but if you didn't trust me, you shouldn't have hired me. Every time you give me money for something, I give you back the receipt with the change, so you can see exactly how much I spent. There was even that day last week when I found a dime Thursday night deep in my pocket and brought it to you Friday. Since they're not mine, I suppose you could claim I steal by reading your books during naptime, but I don't take them out of your house, and it's not like I use them up or anything. I don't even fold down the page I'm up to - I stick a tiny piece of paper inside to keep my place.
So you don't have to close the door to your bedroom, and yesterday? You didn't have to ask me if I was uncomfortable with you changing your jewelry in front of me. I wasn't, but I was uncomfortable with your question.
And sort of in the same area, please stop encouraging me to buy things when you want me to wrangle Nora while we go shopping. And please stop telling me what's cheap. What's cheap to you is not cheap to me. Even if a cute pair of socks are only $4.50, my money is already allocated and I don't need socks. And stop telling me "You can never have too many..." of things like pajamas and socks. All my clothes except my shoes fit in one laundry basket. (And it really hurt when you said you would never buy your clothing at Old Navy or Target. Almost all my clothes are from there.)
Perhaps you are not aware, but we have a storage unit for all the stuff from our Brooklyn house that we kept. It's called Our Bedroom Closet. If my sisters and I have too much stuff, we won't have room for our Brooklyn stuff. A pair of fucking socks is not worth throwing out stuff from my mother. So stop pushing me to buy stuff that while it would be great to have, I don't need. I am perfectly happy to help you shop for you, or Nora, or your friends and relatives who you always seem to need to buy presents for. But let's stop pretending we're shopping for me. And NO, I don't want to "just try it on." I already know it'll look good, and I don't need to see it to believe it. That just makes it hurt even more.
2. You always seem really relieved to get away from Nora. She's whined twice since I've met you, and cried once. She's funny and smart and generally happy. Why don't you like her? It makes me feel bad that I leave her with you when I go home, and I console myself with the reminder that your hot husband is a good parent. Remember the night when he came home after I'd spent the whole day with you, and he was taking Nora out to dinner and you were going to stay home and Nora said "We're going to dinner so I don't drive Mommy crazy" and you turned to me and laughed, saying, "Whoa, guess I should make another donation to the therapy fund for that one"? Yeah, it wasn't funny - it was sad. Literally every single day, you make a comment about how annoyed you are by her mere presence. You're totally regular when you talk to Nora, but you talk about her right in front of her, and she understands what you're saying, or at least, the theme of it.
You always apologize if you think she's annoying me. First of all, it's my job, and second of all, I'm not annoyed. If anything, I'm more annoyed by you. You always encourage me to get Nora involved in a project so I don't have to personally do whatever she's doing. Kids aren't stupid you know - she can tell when she's being pushed away so often. I don't mind baking brownies with Nora, or reading to her, or having a water fight. It's fun. Your kid is fun. And I'm no professional, but I think you're going to fuck her up by treating her like she's such a pain in the ass when she's not. Not to mention, you're losing out.
So yeah. Everything's great, except those two things.
Thanks,
Sam
P.S. I'm giving Nora a cupcake with an "N" on it, and stickers for her birthday this week. All she's talked about is wanting a cupcake and cake.
*SAT word during the summer!
2 comments:
She sounds like a piece of work. I feel kinda bad for her, actually. I bet you'll do that whole family some good.
Your writing is always refreshing and snarky, Sam. You're cool.
Nora sounds wonderful. I used to babysit a little girl like that, and the parents were much the same way. Since she's a teacher, maybe she thought she would enjoy having kids because she enjoyed working with them, but once she had one (even as wonderful and fun as Nora is) she realized that she prefers to borrow children from others. She really should pay more attention to the way she talks about her daughter in front of her though. Kid's aren't stupid.
As for the poor thing, rich people sometimes feel like all poor people do is want their things. We don't. Yes, all that stuff is nice, but so what? The fact that she has so much you don't probably embarasses the hell out of her, which is why she pushes you to buy things, it would make her feel more comfortable thinking you did the same things she did.
maybe she'll chill out as time passes. or not.
(in response to your question, yes i did kick him out :)
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