An angel called Mimi
When my mom was young, she had four little boys and two little girls and how she kept from going stark raving mad is impossible to know. But she did have a creative streak. We lived in an apartment on Louisiana Avenue Parkway and there was a big rotund water heater in our kitchen. My mom took a magic marker and drew a benign face and wrapped a frilly apron around it and called her Sally.
Sally babysat us sometimes.
We interviewed our first nanny this morning and it’s a curious thing to be a modern mother, too aware of everything, and a 50-year-old mother, aware that it’s not all what you think. A photograph of my mother, who we call Mimi for Tin, hangs in his bedroom. I told him that Mimi is watching over him; she is his guardian angel. And in the meantime, we have to be able to make the right decision about who in reality will be watching him while we work. We want Mary Poppins of course but realize that we might need a spoonful of sugar to help reality go down.