The Male Nanny

The Male Nanny works for a wealthy London family and spends much of his time dealing with an inquisitive and often obnoxious five-year-old. His wry and discerning first-hand accounts offer a unique insight into the private lives of London's elites - from family holidays to family therapy - and every lie in between. To keep up with The Male Nanny follow him on Twitter @themalenanny

Pin pain

By The male nanny on 03 Nov 2011 1 comment

I am about to take the five year old to Sainsbury’s, to get some Halloween stuff.

'Could you get me some cash while you’re there?' asks the mum. 'Take my card. The pin is 4532.'

'Sure', I say, storing the numbers in my brain.

We arrive at Sainsbury’s and head to the cashpoint.

'Let me see that card', says the five year old. 'That’s not yours. That’s mummy’s. Did you steal it?'

'No. She let me use it.'

I enter the pin and take the cash out. She looks horrified.

'You need to forget that pin now,' she says.

'I can’t just forget it, it’s in my head.'

'1065767898...' she shouts.

'It’s still in there.'

'Forget it forget it forget it,' she chants, circling around me.

'It’s still in there.'

'Nooooooo pin!' she shouts, darting her index finger at me, like a wand.

'It’s still in there.'

She looks stumped.

We go into Sainsbury’s. The Halloween aisle is completely empty.

'Well that was a waste of time,' says the five year old, as we walk home.

'Yep,' I agree.

'Do you still remember the pin?'

'Yep.'

'Sit on that bench', she instructs.

I obey.

'Close your eyes,' she demands.

I oblige.

I am enjoying resting my eye-lids and legs. Seconds pass and I begin to feel vulnerable.

I am about to open my eyes when something thuds against my forehead and a sharp pain envelopes my skull. I slouch onto the arm of the bench and cover my face and wince.

'What the hell was that?' I screech.

'A marble,' says the five year old, arm cocked and ready to throw another, 'Forgot the pin yet?'

'Yes!' I lie.

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Comments

Patsy1964 replied 28 weeks 5 days ago

I would never disclose a PIN to a child as it likely to slip out at some time; and certainly never write it down for them to draw cash on your behalf; one push of the £100 button instead of £10 puts you both at risk: you going over drawn; the child carrying a hell of a lot of money. My big bug bare is that there are too many pins. I wonder sometimes, particularly with the advent of the touch-tone phone, passwords for sites like these, whether I am controlling the machine, or the machind controlling; particularly with synthesised voices. Also what is this nonesense with the captchacopy: what exactly does it doe for security of the post? Sort of reminds me of Pink Floyd's (yes I am that old) Comfortbly Numb: "Hello, hello; is there any body out there! "