The nanny Diaries

CHAPTER FIVE

THE NANNY DIARIES

Mrs. Butters, Grayer's teacher, smiles at me and shakes my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She looks down adoringly. "You are going to love Grayer, he's a very special little boy." She pats her corduroy apron dress, which fits loosely over her puffed-sleeve blouse. With her round, dimpled cheeks and plump, dimpled hands she looks much like a four-year-old herself.

   "Hi, Grayer!" I say, smiling down at the top of his blond head. He's wearing a little white Oxford button-down polo shirt, untucked on one side, containing the evidence of a morning hard at work: finger paint, what looks like glue, and one lone macaroni. "How was school today?"

   "Grayer, you remember Nanny? You two are going to have lunch at the playground!" his mother prompts him.
   "He slumps against her leg and glares at me. "Go away."
   "Honey, we can have snack together, but Mommy has an appointment. You two are going to have such a good time! Now hop in your stroller NAD Nanny will give you snack."

   As we approach the playground he and I both listen attentively to the long lists of Grayer's Likes and Dislikes: "He loves the slides, but the monkey bars bore him. Don't let him pick anything up off the ground---he likes to do that. And please keep him away from the drinking fountain by the clock."

   "Um, what should I do if he needs to use the bathroom? Where should he go? I ask as we pass under the dusty wooden arches of the Sixty-sixth Street playground.
   "Oh, anywhere."
   I'm just about to ask if a little clarification on the peeing thing when her phone rings.

   "Okay, Mommy's gotta go," she says, snapping her Startac closed. Her departure is like the suicide drills from gym class-----every time she gets just a few feet farther away, Grayer cries and she scurries back, admonishing, "Now, let's be a big boy." Only once Grayer is in complete hysterics does she looks at her watch and with a "Now Mommy's going to be late" is gone.

   We sit on the only empty bench in the shade, while he sniffles, and eat our sandwiches, which have some sort of vegetable spread in them and, I think, unbologna. As he raises his sleeve to wipe his nose I notice for the first time, dangling from beneath his untucked shirttails, what appears to be a business card pinned to his belt loop.

   I reach out. "Grayer, what's with the----"
   "Hey!" He swats my hand away. "That's my card." It's dirty and bent and has clearly been around the block a few times, but I think I can make out Mr. X name in faded type.
   "Whose card is that, Grayer?"
   "You know." He pounds his forehead, exasperated by my ignorance. "My card. Jeez. Push me on the swings!"

   By the time we are done eating and I've given him a few pushes it's time for us to walk over to his play date. I wave as he runs into the apartment. "Okay, bye, Grayer! See you tomorrow!" He screeches to a halt, turns around, sticks his tongue out at me and then runs off. "Okay, have fun!" I smile at the other nanny as if to say "Oh, that? That's just our tongue game!"
   Once I'm on the subway to school I pull out the blue folder, which has my pay envelope paper-clipped inside.

MRS. X
721 PARK AVENUE APT. 9B
NEW YORK, N. Y., 10021

           Dear Nanny,
           Welcome! The attached is a copy of Grayer's
           schedule of after-school activities. Caitlin will
           show you the routine, but I'm sure you're been
           to most of these places before! Let me know if
           you have any questions.
          Thanks, Mrs. X
          P.S. I've also included a list of some possible
          fun activities
          P.S.S. I really prefer it if Grayer doesn't nap in
          the afternoons.