Leets

It’s been hard to get back into the daily grind. We got home late Monday night and had little sleep because of disruptions (sunburns—which is a gross understatement, Mikey’s is more like a sunscorch— knocks on the door at 1 am, texting in the middle of the night . . .) but we both lifted our dead weight bodies out of the bed and made it to work on time Tuesday morning.

My day was spent like everyday last week was; with Mimic, the eighteen-month-year-old busy-body who I nanny for every day. I’ve never seen a child so small talk so much.

Yesterday was stormy in the city. Flood warnings, police sirens, and stories about accidents permeated the news and conversations on the Metro. Mimic and I were playing Playdoh when we heard what sounded like a bomb explode. And with the bomb went the lights. I said aloud, “The power must have gone out.” And the rest of the day all I heard was “Power OUT! Power OOOOUT!” Yes. You’re right. The power is out. We’ve talked about this nearly eight-hundred times by now. And it’s only 9:30. It was a long day.

Besides the mouth and the constant busy-hands, she’s pretty close to perfect. I got lucky with this job.

Today we went on a walk after Mimic's nap and she spent the afternoon using her stretch pants as extra large pockets. In them she stuffed:
- 1 Large yellow leaf
- 2 small brown leafs
- 4 rocks
- 2 dandelions
- 1 mushroom
- 1 handful of grass
Why? Why do you stuff "leets," "wroks," eelawns," and "mushoons" in your pants? Well, I guess that's because she lives her life in clothes without pockets.

Mikey and I meet up after work on the last car of the New Carrollton bound Orange Line Metro and discuss our days. I always have better stories.