There's a ball or two of clay, or chips, or gummy bears, dumped somewhere in my truck and a sticky, rewrapped peppermint in my jacket pocket. I wear baggy tees and sleep shorts all day. I recognize almost every cartoon character of the day and all of the ones from the past.
At any given moment, I might be carrying the remains of whatever's yucky from a child's mouth -- or nose. Small children throw up on me regularly. I might wash a little face with spit and my thumb,,,,, wipe their noses with my shirt. I'm sure you've seen me at the supermarket. I'm the one with the permanent look of insanity on my face with lips in the constant "NO" forming position. I'm chasing the only child in history who can be in 12 places at once.
You know who I am.
I'm the one with the glazed look on my face after answering for the millionth time, "I don't know what worms eat." I sniff at a baby's diaper -- on purpose or stick my hand in and go knuckle deep into the contents.
You know me,,,,I never get to finish a sensible thought.
Don't ask me if I've seen any good movies lately. I have if you count the Dora ones or Shreik.
I used to be reasonably intelligent, pondering the deep secrets of the universe. I once thought I was prepared for the great challenges of life. Now I find myself wondering such things as: If Bert and Ernie aren't related, why do they sleep in the same room? And, where are their parents? I remember when getting together with friends meant stimulating conversation about current events, love and the meaning of life, now I wonder, "Is there life?"
I know you don't know my first name-- I don't have one anymore. I answer to Nanaw, or Nanny. To be honest, I don't even remember my first name sometimes -- I've stop using it myself. When speaking, I simply refer to myself as, "Nanny or Nanaw".
I have my good days, too. I know I'm loved unconditionally by these little ones no matter how I look or feel.