That’s My Nanny!

In a previous post, I had hinted to the fact that Nathan never called me by my first name until the very last day that I was with this family. While this post is not the story of what happened the very last day, I thought it might be amusing to hear about the names and instances in which he used these names.

The very first time I noticed him call me a different name was about a week after I had started. I was a live out nanny and so it was no surprise after a while that every day I would ring the door bell at 12:00pm on the dot. Every time I rang the door bell, I heard the excited stomps get louder and louder as Luke anxiously tried to open the door for me. This particular day, I rang the door bell and as usual, Luke came running to greet me. As he opened the door, I heard a second set of foot steps following. It was Nathan and before be turned the corner he began to shout, “Luke! It’s my nanny! It’s my nanny!” Luke jumped into my arms and Nathan came scooting around the corner. Nathan came over to me and hugged my legs and said, “Hi, nanny. I’m so happy you’re here! Let’s go play now!” I couldn’t help but giggle at the funny-soundly, yet very accurate title he had given me.

Eight out of ten times, Nathan was good about following directions, be it picking up his toys, finishing lunch, or being nice to his brothers. He never gave a verbal confirmation of following such directions, but usually went ahead and did what he was asked. This day was by far an exception. I had just finished making lunch and was ready for the boys to come eat. I called down the stairs telling them lunch was ready. I heard Luke as he huffed and puffed trying to run up the stairs followed by Nathan’s big, slow stomps trailing behind . I strapped Luke into his high chair and turned to Nathan and said, “Alright Mr. Slow Poke, time for lunch!” He stopped. He looked at me and charged toward me. “YESSIR!!” he replied.
“Sir? I’m not a ‘ma’am’?” I giggled. Well this was new.
“Nope. You’re ‘sir'” he confirmed. Well alrighty then! ‘Sir’ it was.

Another one that was amusing to me was ‘the silly singing bean’. I think this was a play off of a silly name I had called him one day. It might also have had to do with the fact that I was pretty much always humming or singing something to myself as I went about my day with the boys. Nathan had been hyper all morning (and no, not from sugar intake. He’s three; basically a walking, talking tornado with two legs) and started mimicking Luke who was still learning to talk. He had mastered all of three words: ‘Yuuuh’, ‘No!’, and ‘Heeeeeeey’. Nathan started saying the same thing in the same voice while dancing and jumping about the living room, arms flailing and everything. I paused and looked at him – he paused and looked back. “You, little mister, are a silly jumping bean today!” It wasn’t until the following day that his dad had asked me why he called me ‘the silly singing bean’ when he referred to me that night after I had left. He told his dad that he never wanted his ‘silly singing bean’ to leave. Talk about possessive! ๐Ÿ˜‰

Kids say the darnedest things!