Page 51 of Nanny for the SEALs

“Because Cora was quiet and stayed in her bed the entire time,” I calmly explained. “You and Micah kept getting up and going into each other’s rooms. But it’s okay. You have a chance to get a gold star during outside play time!”

There was a little yard area downstairs behind the offices, fenced in and sheltered from the neighboring commercial lots by tall trees with wide canopies. Cora played jump rope and hula hoop, while the boys tossed a baseball back and forth. When Dustin hurled the baseball as hard as he could and almost hit Micah, I went over and scolded him.

“Dustin! You could have hurt Micah.”

“I wastryingto hurt Micah,” Dustin said, sticking out his jaw stubbornly. “But I missed.”

“Hurting your brother is not nice. And when you’re not nice, you don’t get a gold star. Now apologize for what you did.”

That got through to him. He nodded sullenly and mumbled an apology. Then the two of them went to retrieve the ball on the other side of the yard.

Obviously, it would be better if the kids intuitively knew not to hurt each other. But sometimes they needed a little help along the way.

Adjacent to the yard was the glass wall of the security office break room. Asher and Rogan were pouring themselves mugs of coffee while watching. I smiled and gave them a wave. Rogan waved back, but Asher looked thoughtful while he watched.

At the end of the day, right before the dads got home, I collected the three children in the kitchen. “Now is the best part of the day. You get rewards for how many gold stickers you have.”

Micah gasped. “You mean we get more than just stickers?”

“That’s right. The stickers lead totreats.” I held two buckets of candy I had ordered on Amazon. “If you have three stars, you get to pick a treat from this bucket. If you havefivestars, you get to pick a treat from this bucket.”

I lowered the buckets so the kids could peer inside. Micah’s freckled face looked shocked. “The candy isbiggerin this bucket!”

“That’s right. The better you behave during the day, the bigger candy you get at night! Cora was really good today, so she gets one of the treats from the big bucket.”

Cora blinked behind her glasses, then eagerly grabbed a Twix bar.

“Micah, you only had three stars. And Dustin only had four. That means you both get to pick something from the smaller bucket.”

They both gazed forlornly at Cora’s larger piece of candy. “But these aresmaller,”Dustin whined.

“Then you will need to be good tomorrow, so you can get one too!”

I had used this plan before. It always worked great, and taught the kids patience and long-term goals. Most actions at this age—shoving, crying, throwing something—were impulses that came without thought. The star system forced them to think about the consequences of these actions.

When the dads got home, I showed them the laminated sheet on the fridge and explained the system.

“I was curious about what you said to them while they were playing baseball,” Asher remarked. “Both of them responded quite quickly.”

Brady peeled it off the fridge and squinted. “And this system works? For real?”

“It sure does. As long as you’re consistent, and let them know when they have done something bad to lose their star. This only works if they understand which actions are good and which are bad.”

“Won’t be a problem,” Rogan said. “We’ll stick to it.”

The next day, Patty covered for me in the morning so I could go to the audition for the anti-smoking commercial. I hadn’t rehearsed very much—I was busy having fun with Rogan in my hotel room at night.

And it showed. I was sloppy. I missed an inflection on one of the lines and the casting director had me re-read it. She wasn’t impressed after the second reading, and told me they would be in touch if I got a callback.

Bombing an audition was a shitty feeling. It was like flunking a test, but with an audience witnessing the whole thing and sending judgmental glances your way.

But I told myself it was not a big deal, because this was just temporary. Six months from now, Rogan would hook me up with his industry contacts. I’d get a real agent. And then I wouldn’t have to audition for stupid commercials.

I’d get my own Netflix show, death threats and all.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t build up your resume in the mean time,” Rogan told me that night in the hotel. “Every little bit helps.”

We were soaking in the bathtub together. We’d continued having sex without a condom, but I still made him pull out. I kind of liked seeing him come all over my chest. It was evidence of how much he enjoyed what we were doing. Tonight he had blown areallybig load. He must have really liked the reverse cowgirl position we tried.

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