... when a 5-year old child leaned against my arm and whispered her wish to become a rock star, her face shining in trust that I would never betray her big secret.
... when she held a duck race in her pink bathtub every evening, willing her favourite duckie to win, and pouting when he didn't.
... when she lead me to the trampoline on sunny days, patiently teaching me to jump, and screaming delightfully when we played 'Crocodile grab me' in mid air.
The life of a nanny is filled with such moments. The child you wake up in the morning and tuck in at the night is not yours. You cannot kiss or hug her, since at a wrong moment, it can be percieved as perverse. There is no bond between you and her, save for the bond of employment, a crisp exchange of notes every Friday evening, in return for infinite care and affection during the week.
The real parents, often absent due to work and recreation, are such a jealous lot that you have to constantly check in your emotions and behave like a strict governess, instead of the indulgent nanny - otherwise, the child would love you more, which will render you jobless in a second.
It is impossible to take a picture of the child who has allowed you into her magical world and helped you rediscover innocence. You have to rely on your mind as the camera, and your memory as the storehouse for the pictures.
You can only hope that the pictures never get old.
Gasp! We don't hear from you for a couple of months and now I see you have flooded your blog with posts. I guess you have a laptop now. :)
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