It really could be soooo much worse. At least we have electricity and a nice house. We have very few ants (so far) and the kids are happy running around the house pretending to be police officers. My injured foot is hanging over my head, though (almost literally after I tripped on my way to the dry cleaner), and I have to get some help in place and the kids in school so that I can go back in January for surgery. I keep telling myself that we need help. Now.We tried to interview two maids this weekend. One thought our house was too far away to come for an interview. I told MH to forget it because if our house was too far for an interview it was going to be too far to come for work everyday. The other one asked for a ridiculous amount of money when she has little experience. I don't know how she asked it and kept a straight face. MH wanted to hire her based on the fact that she understood us and we understood her Peruvian Spanish.
Someone recommended another housekeeper and said, "Just put in her contract that she has to wear a shirt." What? Seriously? I have to request that? We're not in the middle of the Congo or anything. We're in a large city. Apparently she makes wonderful kebabs, though, so we are definitely considering her (with or without her shirt).
And then I flip flop... do I really need a housekeeper? Uh, yes. Yes, I do. I had 6 phone calls today and 4 of them were about the phone company coming to hook up our phone. The ironic part is that they hooked up our phone last week and were calling me on said phone. I tried a variety of ways to explain that we didn't need that appointment and was about to resort to a singing telegram (reminds me of Grampa Joe's favorite joke, "Your sister Rose is dead!"). I have a friend who would say I probably used my "Doylestown voice" but I am not rude when there is a communication breakdown. I just repeat myself in exaggerated slow Spanish and ask them in exaggerated slow Spanish to repeat their questions and speak slowly. I swear they start speaking faster and louder. I feel like a French patisserie owner and they are the stereotypical ugly Americans, "Why does everyone here speak French?" You know what I say to that, "No croissants for you!" Then this lady from the Embassy called to tell me the phone people were outside and I said, "My Spanish is not that bad!" She said, "Well they didn't understand you." So yes, I need a housekeeper to answer the phone and teach me how to speak Dominican.
So if you are counting, I had two more non-phone-related calls left this morning before 9 am. The last two calls were wrong numbers or they were asking for my godfather. I am actually considering calling him to see if he can help us although as far as I know John doesn't speak any Spanish dialects.
But it could be so much worse, right? MH could have a job identifying heads. Snakes. We could have snakes. Or pirates. I keep telling myself, "Snap outta it!" a la Cher.*
*I wanted to put a longer clip on this post but because of our Internet I can only watch 18 seconds of youtube at a time.
