Wake up, naughty baby

Naughty baby hates to get up in the morning; sometimes he cries, and sometimes he screams and kicks, and sometimes he hides his face in his pillow when I turn the light in the nursery on.

I walk into the room with my uniform pressed and starched and flip the light switch while calling to him in a soft, sing-song voice. “Good morning, sleepy head: time to greet the day and say hello to your nanny!”

As I walk through the room and throw open the curtains, letting sunlight spill onto the floor and my curly golden hair, I hear baby squirming in his crib. He’s unwilling to say hello to the sun. He has to get up; we have a busy day. He frowns and pouts and I walk to the side of his crib and look down at him and say, “If baby knows what’s good for him, he will listen to nanny. Now.” He turns away from me.

I walk to the corner of the room to a narrow wooden chest on the floor. It creaks as I open it, but I smile when I see the sunlight hit the smooth handles of my canes and switches. The smile continues to creep to the sides of my mouth as I take one of my paddles from the box, feeling the full weight in my hands, and I turn to baby: “Naughty babies who don’t listen to Nanny must be taught a lesson…

You’re going to wish you had listened to Nanny the first time, baby. Buckle up.”

Nanny Rachel knows what’s best for you. 1*888*430*2010