My Baby Butler
No one was more surprised than me that we did not win the Powerball. But I got to thinking what I would do if we did. I decided that I would hire a butler, not a nanny, but a butler to do all of the ridiculous and tedious tasks that are required as a mom. Obviously, I’d like my butler to clean my bathrooms and wash baby bottles, but I’d really like to get more creative. This is not about laziness, I exercise 5 days a week, there are simply tasks I wish I could parlay to someone else.
1). Load and unload my car.
It takes no less than 5 trips back and forth to the car, 10 if I dare go grocery shopping and God help me if one of my children is crying when we pull up. I wish I could grow oct-o-mom arms.
2). Follow me while I walk my dogs to pick up their business.
On the rare occasions that I am able to walk my dogs, when they decide to go, there is nothing more miserable and humbling than cleaning up after them. At the end of the day sometimes it’s the last straw: my poop cup overflowth at the moment.
3). Fetch me things I’ve left downstairs.
My dream house will most certainly be one story. And it’s never a piece of cake or anything amazing that’s waiting for me on the kitchen counter. It’s always a pacifier or my breast pump.
4). Take out the diaper genies.
It’s not the changing of the diapers that I mind, it’s the compilation of a week’s worth of stink. No matter how strategically I pull it out, I will always get a whiff.
5). Meal times.
My butler would serve as my sous chef/prep cook, with a physic twist, since he would always know which meals were worth cooking because my toddler would always eat everything he chopped up and I prepared. And naturally, I’d never wash a single dish.
6). Stay in the car with my kids when I have to “hop out” for 5 minutes.
This would be life changing, since every time we just need to stop for milk it would appear like we are moving into the grocery store with: my two kids, diaper bag, recyclable bags (come on people if I can remember so can you), and whatever else will fit in a grocery cart.
I wish that parenting was all the good stuff: story time, bath, snuggles and kisses. But it’s a little messier. So until we do hit the Powerball, if you need me, I’ll be the crazy bag mommy at the grocery store, still looking for the aisle where they keep the silver spoons.