I was over with R for two days this week and came back last night. I was exhausted. Not only was one of the babies sick we were also interviewing young women for the job of childminder for when she goes back to work. It was hilarious in a kind of hysterical way if you know what I mean.
Somehow I always had to answer the door and between the kitchen and the front door I invariably forgot the ‘applicant’s’ name (it was usually something unusual like Larissa or Madalena although admittedly one girl was called Rose). Opening the door I kept going through this stupid thing of saying “…actually I’m not the mother, though of course you wouldn’t have thought I was anyway, hair grey and all that, blah blah ……” The young woman at the door, usually with very little English, looked at me each time as if I was unhinged, which by the time the third one had arrived I was.
R asked “how would you entertain the children” and one very personable young lady said she would sing to them in Portuguese. R quick as a flash asked her to sing. It was surreal, she sang and I kept thinking I could see Simon Cowell on the corner of the sofa and was wondering if I could be Cheryl Cole or would R want that position. Brazillian Pop Idol was launched on the North Strand.
We also tested out our Portuguese which is limited to a guy on a beach trying to sell doughnuts in Praia de Luz shouting out what sounded to us like Bolli Bollingha, crema sin creme. Whatever we were trying to say it wasn’t doughnuts. I think the unfortunate girls thought it was some type of linguistics test which they were about to fail.
I don’t think R and I are destined for jobs in human resources but we did end up with a lovely girl who accepted the position. She seemed to be able to overlook some of our odd behaviour. I think she kept looking at the beautiful babies and was saying to herself that in the future she would have them for company instead of the mother and grandmother from ………