The Nanny Poach

I did it. Last week, I tried to poach a nanny. I was meeting a friend for coffee at a local cafe. I was early since it takes me an extra 15 minutes to figure out the fancy stroller I had to have. I got lucky and the stroller just popped into place the first time. I was sitting down, baby in stroller minding my own business when a young, blond, impossibly skinny girl walked by with a child in each hand. I took one look at her and knew she had never given birth. How did I know? Trust me, when you know, you know. She and her charges sat just one table over from me. I knew I only had minutes to make my move. So, I did. I commented on how cute the kids where and asked how old they were. Idle chit chat, blah, blah, blah. I knew my time was waning so I had to get to it. I asked her if the kids looked like her or her husband. Then bingo! She replied that she was the nanny. I laughed sheepishly, playing the part. Then went in for the kill. How much longer did she think she would be with them (these kids definitely looked like they should be in school)? Did she enjoy her job? She could probably sense my desperation at this point because she curtly replied that she was thrilled to be with her family. So, I retreated but resorted to Plan B. Do you have any friends? I knew it was a longshot since now I looked like a psycho Mom. She said no. Shocking! Fortunately for me, my friend showed up and we both went on with our lives. Thankfully, my son is not old enough to understand what was going on and the sheer embarrassment his mother displayed in the cafe that day. And, no surprise, I am still nanny-less.