Alessandra
“Is it done yet?”
Big brown eyes peek over the edge of the kitchen island. The little she-devil is hungry. Her workaholic mother still isn’t home, almost an hour late.
“Abbi pazienza, Erica,” I respond with a wink, and she rolls her eyes. Where the hell did she learn that?
Where the hell did she learn that?“Speak English, Alessandra!” she says with a moan.
Reflexively, I roll my eyes. Oh. That’s where.
Oh. That’s where.I’m Erica’s full-time nanny. While her mother is at work, I care for this six-year-old firecracker and her tiny baby brother, Ben. Breakfast, book time, playtime, lunch, nap, activity, snack break, and sometimes dinner. This is my life from seven in the morning until the familiar creak of the door at five when Lorraine comes home.
But this is my life from s
