Can You Be Our Nanny?

Caring for children is one of life’s most rewarding jobs. Our nanny will need a sense of humor, a stomach of iron, and tons of tricks up his or her sleeve—wait, it’s better if s/he doesn’t wear long sleeves, especially not flammable ones. We don’t mean to be paranoid, but it would also be great if our future nanny has a package of sterile wipes surgically affixed to her wrists.

Answer honestly; we are just trying to get a sense of whether you can handle life’s strangest situations and if we can afford the therapy you will require after you’ve spent some time here.

1. My primary mode of transportation is:

1. Magic umbrella
2. My boyfriend
3. Swinging from tree to tree, which I will teach your kids
4. None; I will run screaming for the hills the first time we meet

2. Landfills were made for diapers.

1. Yes
2. Maybe; but the bigger the diaper genie, the better.
3. Littering is a crime against Mother Earth, and I will hand-wash soiled garments with baking soda and love.
4. I expect you, the mom, to wash everything with love. If you don’t I call CPS.

3. It is acceptable to administer high fructose corn syrup treats to children a half hour before my shift ends:

1. Never
2. Yes, as long as I leave you with a bottle of Chateau St. Sulpice Bordeaux
3. Only if I pay for the ER visit resulting from the game of glue-gun Roulette afterwards.

4. Choose which best describes your discipline style:

1. I will never ever use the word “bad” to describe a child’s behavior. If they sock me in the eye with a Nerf gun I will say: “Nanny knows you can do better than that,” and wait expectantly.
2. Positive discipline: I dish out praise on a hair-trigger in a tone reminiscent of bubblegum commercials. (Ex: “WOW! You were so honest when you said I was fat. Honesty is a virtue!” and “You helped Timmy aim for the squirrel’s eyes with rocks. What a good friend!”)
3. Before any games or outings, I will apostille non-disclosure agreements as well as a Hague convention reading of rights and responsibilities.
4. In my country, we hit back.

5. I understand the family Rottweiler mix is astraphobic and also flatulent. During thunderstorms, the dog is allowed to jump up on my bed and dive under the covers, rear-end facing me.

1. Yes
2. No
3. I have my own flatulent, phobic dog that I will bring over for play dates.

6. I can (check all that apply):

Make bagel emoticons; cut out holiday cookies in the shape of Taylor Swift.
Wake up at 5:30 am on weekends and turn on Nickelodeon, leaving it on for 3 and ½ hours of blissful quiet. I will not tell anyone about this, ever.
Provide childcare even when your entire household has hand, foot and mouth disease
Play hours of toilet tag and head-butt soccer.
Act intrigued when your son says he wants to make brass knuckles, out of wood, with a hammer, for his summer project.

7. I accept payment in:

a. Cash only
b. Bitcoin
c. Dunkin' Donuts cards
d. The good karma that comes from tolerating this circle of hell, which erases all the sins of my past lives.

8. As for politics:

1. I will never mention politics; they’re dirty.
2. A woman’s right to choose results in needing to hire someone like me, but I won’t mention that; I’m too polite.

9. If your child projectile vomits and/or runs a fever, I will:

1. Take them to the doctor, clean up later
2. Text you and sit immobile until you tell me what to do
3. Text your mother
4. Text my mother

10. I have undergone the following:

FBI background check
CPR training
Krav Maga
Post-active-shooter-drill trauma response
UN Peacekeepers’ training protocol, sibling version
Advanced Secrets of Minecraft
Computer hacking for filtering inappropriate material on Nintendo, Wii, X-box and Android
Advanced musical armpit farting

Finally, we ask you to sign the following nondisclosure agreements in the invisible ink our five-year-old made:

___ I will never ever suggest making a baking soda and vinegar volcano because, merciful God, that is the project every single teacher/care-provider/camp counselor has done with these poor children for the past eight years.
___ I will never tell the children that the pygmy pig doing backflips on YouTube is not my personal pet.
___ I understand that I may get early onset dementia from second-hand exposure to Doc McStuffins, and neither I nor my heirs—which I am never planning on having—will hold you responsible.