Cece and the Nanny

Okay, no we can't afford a Nanny. Read and weap....

Cece was probably about 3 years old. We had a group of friends who got together a couple of times a week for mommy groups/play groups, whatever, it kept me sane.

We went one day to a dinosaur museum. My oldest was in his element. He was talking to everyone about the dinosaurs, naming them, what they eat, WHO they would eat if they could. You can guess, of course his sister was one of their snacks.

The group moved onto the next exhibit, Cece and I were left behind with the big T-Rex. She looks up and says, "he eat me?" and pee's her pants.

Okay, so I have a choice here. Responsibility or pass the buck.

Here is my newly trained daughter, soaked. I am thinking NO WAY do I want my peers to see me with a untrained potty trained child, right. HORRIBLE.

A docent come up, "can I help".
To which I reply, "I'm the nanny, I am going to take her to her mommy."


IF this was the end of the story, you could all laugh, and walk away, like I did.

But it's not.

The next day we, the parent group, take a trip to the park.

And here is where I learned about karma.

The kids are playing in the sand, on the swings and slides.
Mom's are talking, refueling ourselves.

Suddenly the kids who are playing under the slide/swing/pole contraption say, "it's raining."

"IT'S RAINING!" Kids are never quiet.

We look over, look up, hands feeling for the rain.
No rain, no clouds. What could it be?

I look over and see my little rain cloud.
Cece; standing on top of the slide platform.
Yes, peeing on the other kids.

So, my kid peed on your kid. No getting out of this one. Gross.

Paybacks for the nanny comment, I suppose.