Let me preface all this boring $$ talky shit with this brief and somewhat irrelevant anecdote. In my Senior Anthropology Seminar, we all had to write a thesis, reviewing the anthropological research in a certain field. I chose childbirth because I love all things vaginal. One girl in this class was a professional mute. When we read each other's theses, Chocolate and I were very surprised to read the mute's Krazy and poorly-written diatribe about how America deserved Sept. 11 and how we were all going to hell because we called someone "primitive" one time. Soo... I won't be writing a Krazy diatribe because I still want to be friends with you after you read this. However, I will say that perhaps the Western world will learn valuable lessons from this economic situation (I refuse to use the word crisis)
N-E-Wayz....
As a nanny, my area of expertise is the chirrens, so here is my big piece of advice: CHILDREN ARE SUPPOSED TO BE POOR. That's what childhood is all about: poverty. Growing up, Dora and I LOVED being poor. We would delicately cut our Cheetos in half, sharing and savoring each morsel. We didn't have extra room in our house for sleepovers, so those took place in the bathroom (ok, I'll admit it; we had the room, Dora and I just loved sleeping in the bathtub).
One of our favorite games was "Ghost Dog." This involved luring over the neighborhood dog (that's how poor we were; the whole neighborhood had to share a dog), a golden retriever named Rusty, and then getting him to lay down. We would then cover the poor beast in dirt and throw a tennis ball far into the horizon. When Rusty sprang up and chased after the tennis ball, the dirt would fly, leaving a ghostly trail behind him.
Bobby Habibi & Coco bought Justin and Dustin a Wii for their birthday. It's been played with approximately five times ... by me. But on Friday les bebes and I spent all afternoon playing with a fucking $3 bungee cord. I know y'all want to give your kids everything. But in the absence of toys, imaginations develop unfettered. This morning I was trying to bribe Trixie with a dollar to make Dash's bed. She said: "I don't need a dollar! What do I need a dollar for?"
Oh, from the mouths of babes.