Are you dumber than a two year old?

I've made my living for the past ten months as a professional nanny. I prefer the term nanny over babysitter for the same reason escorts don't call themselves hookers. For one, I charge more, but there's also an expectation from the person paying that they're getting more from the transaction. Instead of a blow job in a car, they want the full girlfriend experience. Parents expect a nanny to have a vested interest in the well being and development of their child. I have no problem with this and will gladly read a story in Spanish to your drooling ten month old, because who am I to decide that the whole thing is a useless enterprise? I am not (by choice and bit of luck) a parent, so I have no idea if playing Beethoven while a kid sleeps is a good idea or not and I'll do it without passing any judgement, because that is my job. When I tell people I'm a nanny, they often respond by rolling their eyes and insinuating that it's unacceptable for a mom or dad to pass off responsibility for their child to a near stranger so they can have time to themselves. Trust me, it's not. Kids are lot of fucking work. Lock yourself in a room with three puppies who got into some Ritalin and a rabid squirrel and you might have an inkling of what it is like to raise multiple children. I don't begrudge those parents a minute of respite from their progeny. I listen attentively during the meet and greet, mentally noting where the favorite snacks are, nap times, emergency contacts, taking in every detail. But still, I am constantly thrown off guard the minute the parent leaves and I'm faced full on with a shit storm of child babble. Kids say the darnedest fucking thing. All the time. I haven't decided whether or not kids are really smart or really dumb, but I do know you need to be very careful what you say because these mini-people, who will one day forget where they put their car keys on a regular basis, have tape recorder in their brain that enables them to repeat shit you didn't even know they heard in the first place. I doubt their parents realize that their children are telling the hired help that, in the words of a six year old, "Daddy told mommy that they need to go on a long vacation together because they spent their whole honeymoon in the hotel room." My mom is a unfailingly liberal former teacher who tried to be post-racist in the most awkward ways possible. We had these anatomically correct baby dolls, one white girl and one black boy. In theory, it worked great, but I still remember the look of horror on my mom's face when she saw my teething little sister chomping on a tiny black penis in the bath. The more intellectual parents I've met insist on using adult words with their children, leading one three year old to tell me she pushed her broccoli off her plate because her potatoes were ostracizing it. Kids are not ready for the shit. It's more disturbing when the child starts using the real names of genitals and bodily functions with you. At this point in my development, I still say "hoo-ha" and can't even talk dirty in bed. Leo, my very favorite two year old, has apparently learned the word penis and, like any guy, loves to talk about his. He was in the bath when he cooed in his baby voice, "Moooo, I'm touching my peeeenis under the waaaaaater. Are you touching your penis?" I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Leo, I do not get paid enough for this. Just play with your ducklings." I think the idea parents have here is a hippie hold over about bodies being natural and not making your child ashamed of his sexual organs, and it's fine and probably effective, but that particular toddler needs a mandatory sexual harrasment seminar. I once nannied for a five year old named Corbin who had a faux hawk and couldn't recognize any letters of the alphabet. When I used the parent provided ABC flash cards with him, he would just yell out random letters until he stumbled across the right one. His most annoying trait was that, throughout the day, he kept trying to pull my shirt down while yelling, "BOOBIES!". I debated whether or not to tell the parents that their child a)seemed stupid and b) is on the fast track to becoming a date rapist. I expect Corbin will grow up to be a college football player and then go on to manage a successful hedge fund. It also gets complicated when I nanny for older children because we always play board games and I am extremely competitive. I won't lie, I get satisfaction from beating a six year old at Chutes and Ladders. On the flip side, I was once so soundly beat at Monopoly by a nine year old girl that I considered letting her invest some money for me in the stock market. I was going to cheat, like I always do when I play monopoly, but a shred of my dignity was still left so I lost gracefully. Then I told her we were playing Uno because I never fucking lose that game. But I'd rather get m ass kicked at monopoly for six hours than deal with a child who likes to play make believe and insists you join in. Playing Barbies is hard for me, especially because all I want to make mine say is, "I'm bulimic and addicted to plastic surgery, check out my crop top." I just can't get over my selfconciousness and even in front of a first grader I feel absolutely ridiculous. Most days, I do love my job. I'm happy to wake up at eight every Friday and go see the little half Asian twins I nanny for every week. When Luke hugs me and tells me he "lubs" me, my heart melts. It melts, and then I need to run over to him and take away the bobby pin he is attempting to insert into an outlet on the wall. I have so much respect for parents now because every kid is absolutely exhausting and adorable in their own way (you know, not the faux hawked mini bro, he wasn't adorable) but I'm telling you right now that I'm looking into getting one of those IUDs like Mirena. My concern is that it only lasts for five years.