Don’t Let ‘em Get the Wrong Idea

Common story of daughters, mothers and maids, re-told many a time here. Children who have been cared for by loving maids—or nannies in other parts—when they reach adulthood will call the latter in order to share their burden, relieve their anxieties, share triumphs and happiness. (Often the maid rather than mother or father indeed.) When they marry they will insist on the former maid attending the wedding, no expense spared flying them over. A maid will have the password to the house wifi disclosed secretly by the children. —BUT don’t tell Mummy, Auntie. Don’t whatever you do! Ni a couple of days ago was gifted a new phone by her employer’s daughter. She had explained to the young woman, a piano teacher, that she would be unable to reply to her messages from “outside,” not by text at least, as that function had become inoperable on her old Oppo. Oh! Oh!... The young woman saw the problem; the button on the side was missing and the cursor would not land. OK. OK. She would try to get Ni a new one. Some kind of old substitute, Ni had thought. Next day, lo and behold! a new Redmi 8A still in its box and wrapping. Wahallah! Nice. Just what the doctor ordered. How much, Cathy? Perhaps the young woman would allow her to pay back in monthly instalments. Merry Christmas, Auntie. (To the tune of $US100/6,499 Indian rupee. Not top of the range, but not bad either; new, gift horse and all that.) But golly, don’t tell Mummy. DON’T TELL! In this particular case Ni had only been with that family a couple of months.