Thunderin' Thursday

The thing about being a live-in nanny is that you can't ever call in sick just because you're hung over.  I mean, it's not like Coco and Bobby Habibi didn't meet all my friends last night and then let us drive their car into Da City (DC, get it?).  And it's not like they didn't hear me come in at 3am and immediately put my head into the guest bathroom toilet.  And it's not like Bobby didn't make coffee for my hungover friends so they could drive back to Mississippi today.  It's not like they're a fuddy duddy boss you can give a few fake coughs to.   

What "it" IS like is this:

You CAN wear your pjs all day when you're a live-in nanny.  I'm sitting at the bus stop in the freezing rain in my stinky pajamas and flip flops, with just a big gray sweater thrown over it all as if that makes it all better.  It doesn't.  

What DOES make "it" all better is an upper angle + my supah-famous fabulous head tilt.  See how much fancier it makes every situation:

Now we're back at the house and Little Bill is over here and I'm looking up rainy day activities.  We could do a scavenger hunt, but I don't have a prize.  I just have an empty shoe box.  And let me clarify that I'm not actually doing any of these great rainy day activities; I'm just reading about them on the internet.  Did you know you could make a boat of an egg shell?  

But les bebes + one don't even notice that I'm being a total slacker nanny.  They are currently sitting on top of each other and watching Spongebob.  I feel a little nanny guilt but I'll do Storytime later and absolve myself.