princess parking

I have the luck now--I'm unstoppable in parking lots. I used to have to park in the very far corner, walk a mile. I never was close to the cart return or able to squeeze into a parallel parking spot.

The notion of princess parking began when I was a nanny for two two-year-old twins on the better side of the railroad tracks on Spokane's South Hill. I'm not even sure if it is even possible to explain this nanny situation I found myself in... think 'The Nanny Diaries' but not in New York's upper east side, definitely lacking in Chris Evans and with the constant presence of the mother looking over your shoulder or listening to you on a baby monitor from the next room.

The twins themselves were adorable, E and W, with blond hair and blue eyes. E, the girl, with ringlets resembling Shirley Temple that I could envision turning into enviable waves as she aged and W, whose temperament served as an early indicator of his future role as a heartbreaker. Their real names a conundrum alone--think of three traditional, three-syllable names for both boys and girls, take one syllable from each to make two unique, yet familiar sounding names, and there you have it, E and W's curse by moniker.

The mother's Hawaiian heritage lenses itself to many peanut butter and pineapple jelly sandwiches while the twins took their afternoon nap--I'd eat mine with salt and vinegar chips while watching Around the Horn. And if you though the kids's names were enigmatic enough, then think through this--my employer had nannies around the clock and she didn't even work. We accompanied her to the grocery store, to KinderMusik, Costco, Target... everywhere. I'd push the cart and hold on to the kids leashes (animal backpacks, but still), load the cart as needed, unload it into the car.

The strangest thing about these trips was the fact that no matter when, no matter where, the mother always ended up in a first row spot. It was like the stores expected her and the kids--treated them like royalty. A parking lot could be packed, but somehow she'd always end up with the best spot--princess parking. It was the parking lot's way of speaking to her... Aloha!

It's been two and a half years since I'd seen E and W. I used to teach E to say things like "I'm a princess!" and "I'm a diva!" She'd smile, her big gap-toothed grin, and wave her hands in the air as she repeated the phrases. We even sat in the living room for a Gonzaga NCAA Tournament game and they cheered with me--"Goooo Zags!" And though I had to take the trash out every day (including the diaper genies), do the laundry and wonder exactly what was heard over the baby monitors... I enjoyed being a part of the family for a year. If only Chris Evans had lived next door... we could have parked in the princess spot together.