This House is Maid for a Nanny, Sister!

Sometimes, when my four kids are wearing on my nerves and the dust bunnies are plentiful enough to stuff a mattress, I think I need a nanny.

Then I feel like nannies are for rich people, which definitely counts me out. I mean, I have a hole in my shoe but have to wait for payday so I can buy a new pair. On sale. With a coupon.

So since I'm not upper-crusty enough to afford a nanny, I start thinking it might be cool to have a sister wife. Someone else to help shoulder the burdens of domestic drudgery. An extra pair of hands to, you know, clean the sticky handprints off the front of the refrigerator and pick up Legos. And scrub the boys' toilet, because yuck. And to relieve me of my duties when I straight-up don't feel like doing them, like, "Hey, can you take over laundry and bedtime tonight? There's a new episode of 'Teen Mom' and a pint of Haagen-Dazs calling my name."

But then I think ... a sister wife is an actual person living in my household. Not Rosie the Robot from the Jetsons. She would probably want to watch TV and eat ice cream too and then nothing would get done. She'd have needs and feelings. And, like, feelings for my husband.  And she'd also be, like, feeling my husband. Literally. I don't think I could handle all that. (Nor could my husband, for that matter. He's not twenty any more.) Plus, sister wives tend to have more kids, and Lord knows that's not the way to restore order and cleanliness up in here.

So then I think maybe I should hire a housekeeper. Yes! A housekeeper wouldn't be after my husband (well, if she knows what's good for her). She wouldn't ask for any of my ice cream. She'd have her own home to go to when she finishes cleaning mine. Housekeepers don't take care of kids, but I could do that while she's deep-sanitizing the crapper.

Then I remember the hole in my shoe. And the waiting for payday.

Well damn. If you need me, I'll be chasing after my own kids and cleaning my own toilet.

... But at least I'm not sharing my ice cream.


  1. This made me crack up. As I had almost the same mental breakdown this morning. I have four men of various sizes...ok three boys, a husband and a baby girl, and those boys make messes faster than I can clean them up. And my husband fails to see things like dishes and the dirty clothes somehow always end up on the floor NEXT to the laundry basket.

    1. My husband and kids are the same way, despite my best efforts to remind them (constantly). It's a never-ending job, isn't it?!

  2. Oh, if we could just all be wealthy.......... Dream a little dream for me. 💰💰💰💰💰

  3. I'll help with the laundry and the kids, but the crapper is YOURS! LOL

  4. Oh you are so funny. Seriously glad I have found your blog. By the way you need to move to South Africa. Here the maids are cheap. and


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