Your dad is working, your mom is day drinking and you’re a baby… so who the fuck is going to put on your Chanel onesie? Your third parent, your housekeeper, your underappreciated live-in… your nanny. From a young age, betches learn that their parents have mad love for them, but they aren’t about to leave a charity event early because you need to be put to bed. It's like, with every set of custom monogrammed Egyptian cotton sheets comes a hired hand that is going to tuck your little crying ass in. Our parents didn’t read us Amelia Bedelia, our nannies did.
Since our parents were doing other things in our formative years, we spent a lot of time in places with our nannies. The kindergarten hallway was basically like the UN, with hot topics of the moment being discussed in almost every foreign language ever. It's not like we could actually understand what was going on but every so often they would throw in our name or a reference to something our mother said during a conversation that was supposed to be private and we would know that they were talking shit.
On the subject of language, we just need to discuss that unless your nanny was some college student from middle-America trying to pay her way through the Sears Kardashian Kollektion, you probably developed some form of an accent from overexposure to third world dialects. Could you get me a cold bottle from the freegeedare, mon? Nobody ever corrected us because it was so cute and our parents didn’t want to offend the help. If we would rather speak in Jamaican slang than English then that’s what the fuck we were going to do.
It’s was pretty hilarious to see our parents, who for most of the day were executives and country club presidents, totally bend over backwards to please our nannies. They ran the fucking house; if they needed more lemon pledge then they got it. Our parents knew that they were second place in our lives. This was the trade off. It’s like the this ongoing circle, our parents go to work or to social events to provide us with a fab life, then they hire somebody to take care of us, who we end up loving more than them, and then they like probably have to leave their kids with their abuela or something. It’s sad but true, without the nanny, the entire military-industrial complex would fall apart like that European bitch at the Golden Globes.
Serious betches had nannies well throughout high school and sometimes even college. I mean, how could you possibly fire someone so indispensable that they know the depth of your pain and exactly how to fix it when you tell them you can't find your Tory Burch Savu Logo halter bikini top when spring break is like, less than 24 hours away. No one knows how to fix your domestic issues quite like someone that's been paid to be your personal bitch for the past ten plus years.
So whether you had a nanny in a uniform or a babysitter/housekeeper hybrid in an oversized t-shirt and leggings, take this time to reflect on the enormous impact these people have had in your life and how they are basically responsible for like an entire generation of betches.