a young woman not unlike myself.

Apr 28, 2007 11:45

At Vivace inhaling my yummy Egg Bagel Sandwich, daydreaming.

A young woman next to me chats up a skinny 5 year old stuffing her face with a crepe du sucre.  By the conversation I can tell she's either the nanny or a friend babysitting.  I'm guessing the former considering I'm in NW Portland.  It reminds me of my previous positions.  Being a nanny is a pretty good job for a student or someone who enjoys a lot of free, flexible time, like myself.  I miss my charges, especially Alice and Grace.  They became like little sisters to me and I hope I will get to see them soon.
She's tiny and cute, the nanny.
Jet black hair pulled up in a ponytail, casual yoga pants paired with bright blue Addias kicks.  She gets huffy with the little girl who has begun to make a mess of powdered sugar.  I recognize the tone.  It's the tone of taking care of someone else's progeny.  Caring but detached.  Their messes aren't endearing, they are burdensome.  Mother says it's different, "when it's your own."  Perhaps you're more forgiving of the little being you chose to bring into the world?
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