I haven’t written much about my nanny here - I was going to, but then Mom101 called me a yuppie douche bag – Okay, she didn’t (I flatter myself). She just made me feel like I think I am one (which I don’t and I’m not). But I do have a nanny, and we love her so much that we’re willing to put up with all manner of – well – things we don’t love.
It all began when I asked if she’d work weekends and she said, “I’m really not a weekend worker – I keep the Sabbath.”
Which is nice – I’m good with that. I keep the Sabbath too – a couple of times a year or so. But then she started bringing things over, like Focus-on-the-Family videos, for the kids to watch and a variety of other over-the-top simplistic and sappy Christian type books and stuff. That’s mildly annoying because I think it’s presumptuous and rude to give other people’s children religious paraphernalia, but I am an equal-opportunity religious experimenter, so no biggie really.
I did fully expect my husband to have an aneurism or something, but he said he doesn’t really care either. That's how good she is!
Still, I keep my ears open, because I won’t tolerate any “certain people are going to hell” types of talk here, among other things. But so far it’s seemed pretty harmless, like she takes the kids’ magnetic letters on the refrigerator and spells out “Jesus Loves You” and such.
But the other day J said to me, “I don’t think Nanny celebrates Halloween. She just has her Christmas decorations up already.”
(Halloween is the most favorite holiday of the year here.)
“How do you know?” I wondered, since they don’t go to her house.
“Well,” he said in a big disgusted huff, “She just talks about GOD all the time and…” he shook his head and furrowed his brow, “and she only celebrates Thanksgiving and Christmas! That’s it!”
So I tried to keep a straight face until I could tell my husband, and he said, “Oh my God, the other day I came home and there was a rainbow and Nanny was saying to the kids, ‘Oh look guys, it’s God’s – God’s…’ I can’t remember what she called it something really stupid.”
“Yeah!” he went on, “And then she said something really trite like God’s promise that… I can’t remember what it was, but it was so ridiculous.”
“God’s promise that He’d never flood the earth again?”
“Yeah!” he looked at me like I must be psychic, “How’d you know?!”
Atheists – think they’re so smart.
“Pretty much everybody on the planet who didn’t grow up in a Maoist re-education camp knows that – except you," I said, "You really should know what’s contained in the most popular work of literature of all time, not to mention the book that’s had the greatest influence on the development of western civilization.”
“Nah,” he said, “just a bunch of dumb fairytales.”
“Willful ignorance,” I chided.
But we’re not bothered by her telling them that – actually I read the bible to them sometimes and they know that story anyway. I would have told them the same thing. Then I would have told them that it’s the sunlight meeting a raindrop at just the right angle for it to split into its spectrum, so the raindrop can reflect all of the sun’s colors back to us. And, of course, I would have added that there’s a pot of gold at the end of it. Why not?
But then I found a small leather-bound New Testament-only that Little One said Nanny had given to him. I gritted my teeth (I’m sort of Catholic, remember – Christianity makes no sense to me outside the context of the history of the Jewish people’s relationship with and understanding of God), but I didn’t say anything. Then he sat down with it and very seriously said, “Mama, do you know what this book can tell us?”
And I silently prayed, Dear God, please don’t let the nanny have said anything that will make me have to fire her, because we love her so. Please!
Then he opened it, perused the pages, and announced joyfully and enthusiastically, “This book tells us only sixteen more days until Halloween!”
Praise the Lord.