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Mrs. Desario and the Nanny Whore

By Penelope Street




For the first six months I worked for Margaret DeSario, I thought she'd hired me to take care of her two preschoolers. I had no cause to think otherwise. She had ALS and was by then confined to a wheelchair, so I ended up taking care of her a bit too. Because it was a round-the-clock job, I couldn't even think of a social life. Not that I minded—my social life hadn't been all that before and I enjoyed being a pseudo-member of the family. Plus, living in the secondary suite that was their basement allowed me to save almost all of my already generous salary.

At my three-month-review, Mrs. DeSario sang my praises and gave me a raise, so I had high hopes at our six month meeting that I might get another. It wasn't as if she and her husband were hurting for money.

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