Page 13 of Nanny for the Bossy Billionaire

It doesn’t take long before Naomi finds us in the kitchen. I introduce her to Ruth. They exchange pleasantries. Then I ask, “So have you gone through Ethan’s schedule?”

“Yes, I have. I have to say, it’s a little… um… involved, for a three-year-old.”

“How do you mean?”

She shrugs. “Well, aren’t children supposed to be children? I don’t think his life is supposed to be this regimented.”

I get up and stand right in front of her, towering over her on purpose.

“When you have your own children you can decide to raise them as hillbillies if you want. I want my son to be raised right, and this is how I think that will be best achieved. So I would thank you to stick to the schedule. I have it for a reason.”

The more I spoke the redder Naomi got. By the end of my little speech her jaw is clenched so tight I worry she might shatter some teeth.

“Whatever you say, sir.” If I wasn’t her boss, I am 100% sure she would have throttled me. As it is, she fixes the phoniest of smiles on her face and says, “Right then, it’s time for Ethan’s bath, according to page sixty-five, paragraph three of the schedule.”

This girl…

She claps her hands excitedly and Ethan jumps down from his table with a squeal and runs to her.

“I’ll show you to his room,” I say dryly.

And we’re off. The day has begun.

The bath goes well enough.

I mean, it could’ve been better, but I don’t blame her too much for that, because Ethan did his best impression of a greased pig in the tub. Short of holding him down with all her bodyweight, I’m not exactly sure how she could have gotten a better result.

Next, his tutor, Mr. Vasquez arrived. He and Naomi spend the next four hours helping Ethan with his educational activities. They walk him through his Math, English, Reasoning, and Dexterity exercises for the day. Then they walk him through his creative work. Today is arts and crafts day.

After that, lunchtime.

This is where things start going downhill.

It takes Naomi forever to get Ethan to sit still long enough for her to prepare his meal. At the end of it all, his food is barely edible, and Ethan being the picky eater he is, basically launches his plate clear across the room.

So to keep him on schedule, I find him something to eat out of the fridge and we move on to quiet and independent play.

However, because of the lunch debacle, he’s quite riled up and refuses to play with his blocks. Instead, he screams and runs around the room until he falls and skins his knee on the carpet.

What follows is 15 minutes of Naomi and me trying to calm down my wailing toddler.

As soon as we manage that, we take him outside for some fresh air. We go to our miniature zoo on the property. This seems to pick up his spirits as he spends a lot of time babbling at the various birds, monkeys, and goats we have.

We end the day with some TV time. At which point it’s time for Naomi to head out.

We step outside the media room and she turns to me and says, “Well boss, how did I do?”

I stare down at her. “I thought you said you could cook?”

“I can, but the recipe I was supposed to follow was a little more complicated than I was expecting for a three-year-old’s diet. Also, it wasn’t made easy with Ethan running into my legs every five seconds.”

“Shouldn’t you know how to handle that?”

“Yes, but it is my first day. Now that I know what to expect, it’ll be better.”

“I hope so.”

“So… I’m not fired?”

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