Cinderelly!

New Host Family (yes, there's a new family; no, that's all I'm going to say about it) has a live-in nanny to help out with their three year-old boy. "Nanny" doesn't quite explain everything this woman does; she herds the child, she cooks, she cleans, and always knows where everyone's keys are. She holds the fabric of the household together. There should be statues erected in her honor.

Having never lived in a house with a dedicated staff before (even of just one person), I find this whole arrangement mildly disconcerting. I may have treated my mom like a maid before (Hi, Mom!), but that's entirely different. And so with nearly two decades of "Go help your mother" echoing in my ears, I try to pitch in and help. With mixed results: it's possible that the nanny in question has heard tell of my previous forays into trying to help around the house. Thus most of our interactions revolve around me trying to help her vacuum/tidy/cook/whatever, and her trying to dissaude me from doing so. Neither of us really succeeds, but at least we have fun with it. And I think I might be wearing her down: she let me help set the table at breakfast this morning, although she did strike a sneaky blow by making tea before I was awake. That's cheating, in my opinion.