I have decided that I’m too quick to judge. Yes, it’s true. Fancy here is judgmental. Now sometimes it’s probably justified. Like if you are a teenager and your jeans are pulled down under your butt so I have to see your underwear and you have tattoos across your face and an electronic ankle bracelet and it is 2 am when we meet on the street, well, my best guess is that you are not crusading for Christ. But other times I do believe that I’m too quick to make a leap. I don’t always give people the benefit of the doubt they deserve.
Take this weekend. H and I like to take the Minis swimming at our Fancy Gym during “family hours” on the weekends. Nanny #2 had the girls out to the park while I worked out with Fancy Trainer and then I met her back at the house to get the Minis lunch and changed into their suits. Then we were to head back to the gym to meet H as he finished his Fancy Trainer session. (Yes! I know!!!!!)
As the girls were eating I headed upstairs to find my swimsuit. Last I’d seen it, my Fancy yet modest one piece (my favourite for toddler pool time) was hanging in my upstairs bathroom. Yet, when I went to get it, it had vanished!
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered. “That woman can’t control herself, can she? What the hell has she done with my suit? A million bucks says it’s in the laundry. It’s a fucking swimsuit. It doesn’t need washing. Even worse, I bet she threw it in the machine. All that beading. Whoosh. Gone. That suit cost £200. Fuck me. That’s it. She’s off laundry. I swear to God…”
“Nanny #2!” I hollered down the stairs, trying my best to stay calm and friendly. “Do you happen to know where my bathing suit is? The black one that was hanging over the tub?”
“Yes! I put it in the drawer with your other suits. You know, the top left one,” she called, oblivious to my furious rant of 15 seconds earlier.
Ah yes. And what do you know. There it was.