2004-07-07 @ 10:02 a.m.
|Subj: (no subject)
Date: 7/7/04 1:17:17 AM Eastern Daylight Time
Can I blame PMS? Oh wait, I never had a period this month. My moods have been bouncing up and down and sideways. Day Two of Nannydom was definitely a mixed bag.
The part with the kids...great. Walking in the woods, playing frisbee, catching frogs and tadpoles down in the pond, watching "Harry Potter and the Secret Chamber", cooking spaghetti-Os 3 different times (this house needs groceries really bad), playing with the cats, having art hour. All golden.
Not so golden, this morning Hottie Tom and his son had spent the night, and most of the morning and early afternoon, I had to watch and listen to them blow groundhogs to smithereens with a gun out in the yard.
I was so distraught early on that I called my mom crying. I had told Tom, that I didn't like seeing any animals getting hurt, but his son was so into "shooting animals" that most of the mid-day hours was spent shooting the poor little thing, talking about shooting them, talking about how they should skin them, talking about how sharp the knife would have to be when you separate the ground hog from their skin. And it just completely sickened me. I everytime I heard the gun popping out in the yard, I would jump. And even though Tom was supervising, I was worried sick about having a gun around the kids...I could just see it going off accidentally and killing one of the kids on my first full day of nannydom. And of course, since it bothered me, it became a great sport to make Witty skirm with the gruesome details of how the groundhog's brain got splattered.
There's a reason I don't hunt and don't like guns. Its because think its barbaric.
I finally got the kids in for a lunch of spaghetti O's with groundhog meatballs and one of them asked me if we could do some art. I think he's the artistic one, so I happily complied with his request and we had art hour. He drew about 4-5 drawings and I worked on one piece inspired by a nearby Tim Burton movie cover of "Nightmare before Christmas". The other boy did join in and draw one picture but then threw it away. I thought it was good and told him so, but he didn't like it.
Later when dad came home we had our official art opening. I suggested to his artistic son that we switch our artwork and tell his dad that HE drew the Nightmare Before Christmas one and he was all excited because he thought it was cool looking, so dad came walking through, barely looked at anything and left without saying nary a word. I think his son was disappointed and didn't even get to spring the news on him that the Nightmare one wasn't really his.
So, Dad, dear old Dad. He is pretty much, as much as a Nightmare as I imagined. Very cold and arrogant. Sorry "A" just stating the facts. I'd like to give him a benefit of the doubt, because of the recent death of his wife, but he's already salivating over babes on Match.Com. Bad form, old chap. I would have waited at least 6 months before discussing "hot babes" with a kid's mother who dropped her son off for a sleepover last night. I was out there at the car with them, and I got to hear the graphic details of their prolific sex life with his deceased wife, and you know what....I wasn't really interested, and the timing just seemed wrong. And then when we got back in the house and were alone in the TV room, Sir G. showed me a picture of a Maid uniform and asked me if I thought nannies should wear them. As in what they get spanked during foreplay. I was like dude, you've already stated your preference for women under 34, so I'm sure as hell not going to dress up like your fantasy nanny just because of my close proximity to your boudoir.
What a fucking dickhead.
And then I was watching a movie awhile later, largely to ignore his Highness, he asked if I was scared of the dark. I said no. And then he said, well I could have probably guessed that since there are so many lights on in the house.
What? I'm only in my little "efficiency" apartment. I have no idea what the kids have left on in the rest of this 7000 square feet monstrosity. Its almost 10 p.m. at night. Didn't I punch out like 5 hours ago? I don't think he realizes I have hours. I think he thinks I'm supposed to be available 24/7. Well, not for $150/week. I had already cooked a second dinner of spaghetti-O's at 9 for the kids. I didn't really mind that, but still. Where was he? On the internet checking out babes? He hadn't even talked to his kids. His kids didn't even come running out to see him when he got home. Does that give you a clue on something? Married Guy's kids absolutely maul him when he gets home. They climb all over him and kiss him and can't wait to tell him about their day. I don't even think they came out of their rooms and up from the backyard. That is so sad to me.
So I'm pretty much thinking I will finish out my week on Friday and vamoose. The setting is beautiful....I like the kids...there is an endless supply of videos, but at the end of the rainbow is a thoughtless father who is letting his kids run wild with no supervision or love. Or what love he gives them is of the "I'll pay somebody else to love you" variety. Which is Sad....very sad indeed.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty