She had two fur coats, two soft Himalayan kittens and bottles of lotion and shampoo from every hotel in which she had ever been a guest. Not to mention the white guest robes tied neatly together at the waist and the multiple pairs of first class slippers from her many flights between SeaTac and JFK. Not only was she a first class flight attendant, she had married a much older man who had grown children and a fancy law degree. An unlikely couple it seemed to me. But then, I was the poor kid who had just come from living in a mobile home behind a giant chain link fence with people who vowed to kill anyone who trespassed on their property.
When they were gone, I liked to open the closet to touch the coats - so luxurious and unfathomable. So dead. So elegant.
The same can't be said for the kittens. They were annoying, only had eyes for their owner, and suffered through bath time in the sink of the utility bathroom. Cats don't like getting wet. They certainly don't like being blow dried. I don't know what she was thinking. Perhaps, in her mind ,she had mixed up fancy Hollywood mini-dogs with cats.
I moved in when I was 18, having left my country nanny job for one I thought would be more tolerable and sophisticated. The house was three times as big, not including the downstairs play room with a built in stage and professional ballet bar. There was a pool. And his and her bathrooms. Her's even had a bidet.I was in my own wing with their daughter, who inhabited a room of white, pink and giant stuffed animals. She had a closet across one entire wall with two tiers to hold all her clothes.
My room was less glamorous, at the back by the side entrance. I had a TV and a phone. And by the time I moved all of my stuff in, not much room to move. Not that it mattered, I was hardly ever in there. I worked six days a week, often from morning until hours after dinner. My wage? $300 a month, plus room and board. They told me they'd give me an extra $100 a month if I lasted a year. Little did I know I was one in a long string of nannies.
I should talk about their little girl. Golden white blond, cute smile. Loved to watch Frosty the Snowman (over and over and over) while she ate breakfast. Mostly I didn't know how to keep her entertained and her parents didn't know how to pay her any real attention. I was the utility caregiver - they were there for occassional encouragement and presents.
I never did get that extra $100 a month. Couldn't make it past two months there before I realized I was being taken advantage of. After that I was unemployed for too long before landing a job delivering pizza. I would do that 100 times over again rather than live with the nouveau riche and all their furry pretensions.
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