Bad Nanny!

Most everyone has read "The Help."  It took me around 20 hours to listen to it in the car on my recent road trip.  LOVED it. 

I wasn't in the south during the civil rights movement but up east still.  Mom and Dad had help.  One lovely woman named Magnolia helped Mom by "watching" us and cooking.  I know my brothers would agree that we (they) tested the help!  We still laugh today recounting Magnolia Tales.  She'd pick up the rotary phone and pretend to call our parents...."Ahhhhhhh, swear, children.....your parents are gonna be upset when they hear you ain't eatin' your dinner."  She'd chase my brothers all over the house.

And don't forget about the butler and gardener at Mimi's.  I think THEY could write a book!  My word - the stories they could spin.  The amount of booze put away and the hangovers suffered by the adults were a weekly event.  And then the grandchildren.  My confessions here will finally put to rest my angelic reputation! 

My cousin and I "stole" Mimi's Mercedes one night....and slowly inched our way out the drive.  We had to; otherwise that gravel I love so dearly, would have given us away!  And the two of us drove around East Hampton like we were "all that."  Do you think the gardener, who also took care of the autos, didn't know the car went out the night before?  Yet he didn't tattle.

The first time I got sick from imbibing was at Mimi's.  I was tucked and stuffed into beautiful, crisp, WHITE sheets and morning hit me.  Hard.  Needless to say, the white sheets were no more.  All I could think was that I HAD to hide this mess from Mimi.  That poor maid!  Dis-gus-ting.  And she didn't tattle.  It was another era - the help was respectful and quiet.

Now, fast forward to 1990.  We had a 7 year old son and a newborn.  I worked full time and we thought it wise to try a "live-in."  I went through an agency for heaven's sake.  They presented a (too) pretty blonde-ish young lady, I think around 20.  Hhhhmmmrpppph.  But I was desperate and all seemed legit.

She liked her wine and wasn't bright enough to get rid of the evidence.  We found a garbage bag full of empties in the attic.  One night I took a call for her.  He said she had applied for a job and he wouldn't leave a message.  Even 20 years ago we had caller I.D.  I called that number right back.  A strip joint.  My "nanny" was a future stripper. 

Where HAD the good help gone?