Puppy dog tales

One of the most drama-filled moments I experienced as a nanny happened in the City. We were on a day out during the school holidays and were visiting Centrepoint Tower. For those that don’t know it’s name has changed now but it’s Sydney’s tallest building and it was pretty busy that day.

The four kids and I waited for a lift to take us back to street level. People were everywhere, so I had my little ducks all huddled in nice and close to me. A lift arrived and opened but it was going up instead of down, so we waited for the next one. Except one of my smallest charges who was only 3 at the time, he hopped into the lift. Before I had time to grab him, the doors closed and my little boy was in the lift alone, going up.

It was one of the worst moments of my life. I intitially screamed, but then realised I needed to stay calm. I yelled into the lift, hoping my voice would carry up the chamber for him – assuring him to just stay in the lift and that we’d be with him soon. It felt like forever, but I kept talking to him – all the time hearing his screaming as the lift went higher. Eventually the doors opened and inside stood a very sad, scared and teary three year old.

As he got older he loved hearing that story. Of course I told him with much drama and enthusiasm, so he understood just how traumatic the situation was and still seemed to be so many years on.

I was watching a re-run of Modern Family on Wednesday night and that same thing happened to one of the families. It was much more funny watching it happen to someone else. It instantly reminded me of my nanny family though, and suddenly I missed them.

Yesterday as I drove Lacey to Kindy I thought about them. Lacey goes to Kindy right near where I used to work, so I often think of the family as I drive through those familiar streets. I quite miss nannying, a lot. I miss the kids and I miss the lifestyle. I dropped Lacey off and headed home to work, but spotted a stray dog out of the corner of my eye.

The family that I nannied for had a dog who fancied himself a bit of a Houdini {Houndini if you like!}. Many of my days were spent searching for that dog. He was cheeky bugger who could find his way out of anywhere. One day I even found him at a cafe, on a leash, lunching with old ladies from the neighbourhood. They’d kindly taken it upon themselves to look after him for a while.

I pulled up beside the dog and called him over. He came running towards me, so I popped him into the car. He looked different though. A little greyer, and scruffier than before. Suddenly I wondered if I’d picked up someone else’s dog. “Is that you?” I asked him {funnily enough, he didn’t reply}.

“Does it smell like you?” I asked taking a big whiff.

I pulled back the fur from his eyes and looked him square in the face and asked, “Is that you? Or have I picked up another dog?”

He still didn’t reply, so we drove along to my old work feeling secretly thrilled that I’d get to see the kids again.

It turns out that I did have the right dog. And let me tell you, kids grow mighty big quickly when you don’t spend every day with them. They had a trillion new freckles, as I imagined they would. They were much taller. Much older, even though just a year has passed since we said goodbye {I’ve seen them on and off since, but it feels like forever}. It kinda made me a little sad. A whole lot of sad to be honest. Oh, I miss them.

Do you have a job that you miss?