The (Poor) Nanny

Recently I attended a political fundraiser held at the private home of a neighbor. His property boasts an enormous lawn overlooking the Casco Bay, with beautiful landscaping all around and a stunning water view. The guests numbered about 75, most of whom gathered around a groaning board full of luscious foods and a bar serving beer and wine. The weather was perfect and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Except for one person, an attractive woman in her late 30s or early 40s who stood well apart from the crowd, nursing a glass of white wine.

Naturally I went over to speak to her, having been that loner myself at some parties in the past. It turned out she was the nanny to two young children, ages six and eight, who were present. Also in attendance were the children's parents, grandparents, an uncle and an adult cousin. Yet for some reason that escapes me, the nanny was brought along to keep an eye on the children. 

And so she did. In fact, that's all she did. As the rambunctious youngsters ran around the vast property, she tailed them like a hired private eye while their numerous family members were busy drinking, talking, eating and yukking it up with the other guests.

I hope that nanny was being paid handsomely. Very handsomely. And I also hope that when those kids grow up, they'll love their nanny more than their shithead parents.