An Emergency With A Twelve Year Old

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Four.
     About 5 years ago, I began nannying two pre-teen boys. At the time, they were about 8 and 11 or so. I picked them up from school, drove them to various appointments, then brought them home and sometimes made dinner, 2 or 3 X per week. At the end of the first year, Mom decided she didn't need me anymore, seeing the boys get older. So she graciously let me go.
     Boys went on strike until Jeremy was reinstated. So he was. That school year, I was there about 2 X per week. Then, Mom let me go at the end of that school year. Again, boys rebelled. Again Mom re-instated me "on call". That satisfied the boys. I've been on call ever since.
     Let's be honest. Sometimes, you simply need and extra set of hands. Even if you work from home, or have 2 parents in the home. You occasionally just need an additional person. So she'd phone me, knowing that I had other jobs and may or may not be able to help out. The last couple of years, I've helped them out  2-4 X per year.
     About 1&1/2 years ago, I even attended grandparents day at school, so Eli wouldn't feel left out. (Grandparents could be replaced by parents or any other important person in the child's life. Neither parent could make it. So Eli thought of me, and Mom phoned. Who am I to say no to that?)
     So, a month ago, Mom phoned and explained that she was catching a plane to North Carolina at 5PM on a day a couple of weeks later, while ex-husband was due back at 6PM from Philadelphia on that same day. Would I pick-up Eli at 4PM from day camp, hang out, go for dinner and drop him off at Dad's when he got home about 7? (Meanwhile, Max, the 16 year old brother, is away at camp for the summer, so he isn't part of the equation.) Of course I would. Great.
     Mom phones the morning of and says she's catching an earlier flight. Would I pick up Eli at 3? Sure.
     I pick him up and he's thoroughly confused by my early arrival, but gets over it quickly. We drive home to Chagrin Falls, watch The Howling which I've brought with me, (my rating: 4/10)  and begin thinking about food for dinner. Then all heck breaks loose. I begin getting texts concerning Dad's delayed flight. Seems some pesky storm is grounding flights. (Those storms have some type of nerve, don't they?) Both parents are concerned and I tell Eli what's going on. He's not too upset. Then, we go for dinner.
     There's an Italian place near Eli's homes where neither one of us has ever been. So we go there. He has Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken which is very good and I get the Chicken Marsala which is wonderful. Dad phones again saying it's not looking good. Mom phones again, frantic. I remind both parents that I was a live-in nanny for 10 years for two different families. Between 2 pre-school girls and 3 adolescent boys, there's no childhood emergency that I've not already encountered. This may be new territory for them, but not for me. So what if my 3 hour stint turns into 20? If I did have plans I'd change them. Eli's top priority now. That soothes both of them tremendously.
     Eli and I go get some ice cream and walk around gorgeous, downtown Chagrin Falls, Ohio. We have great fun. We go to CVS so I can purchase a toothbrush, some floss and some razors 'cause it looks like I'll be staying over. We go back home and watch Attack Of The Giant Leeches, another DVD I've brought with me (my rating: 2/10) and find out that, indeed, I will be staying the night.
     Eli's a smidgeon anxious, but really, not much. I stay in his room while he falls asleep and all is right with the world. I sleep in Mom's room and watch TV from bed which, for me, is a luxury. At 11.30, Max phones to say "hi Mom". Boy is he surprised to hear my voice.
     Next morning, I wake up way too early and begin making preparations for French Toast. I wake up Eli at a civilized hour, he comes downstairs and while waiting for me to whip up breakfast, step-mom phones from Paris where she's seeing the sites with 2 of her 3 adult children. They talk for a while. Then he comes and has his morning meal. He's quite happy with my fare (add vanilla extract and cinnamon to your egg/milk mixture the next time you do French Toast. It's wonderful. Also heat up the syrup. It will elicit squeals of delight.)
     Mom phones me during breakfast to say that dad drove in to Cleveland from Philly, arriving in Chagrin Falls about 5 or 6AM. Who knows when I'm off the clock? He'll phone me upon consciousness and then I'll drop of his youngest child.    
     He phones at 10. It all works out fine. When the dust clears, both parents were very grateful. I was glad to help. 
     I'll tell you what else. A few years ago when Max had his Bar Mitzvah, Mom had to REALLY lobby to get me invited. Dad and step-mom didn't quite grasp how fond their boys were of me. In a coupe of months,when Eli steps up and becomes a man in the eyes of his religion, I'll bet you a million dollars, I'll be invited with no hesitation.         

Chicken Marsala

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-Two.
     Ever taste Chicken Marsala? Wow! It's good. I hadn't had any in a couple of years, but I had some recently. Oh my gracious, it was delicious. It's not really too difficult to make either. This recipe serves 2-4 depending upon how polite, large, hungry, old or picky your guests are. Of course you can double the recipe, or even triple it. But if you do, you may need to saute the chicken in batches.
                INGREDIENTS:
     two boneless, skinless, chicken breasts
     flour (1/2 cup?)
     salt
     butter (4 tablespoons?)
     olive oil (a few tablespoons?)
     one pint of mushrooms, sliced
     some Marsala wine (1 cup?)
     parsley to garnish, if desired

DIRECTIONS:

     First, carefully slice each flat breast across into two thin cutlets. Set aside.
     Then, mix some flour with a few pinches of salt in a pie plate.
     Then, dredge the cutlets in the flour and set aside again.
     Then melt the butter in a large saute pan over medium high, but not too high, and add the oil.
     Then, fry up the cutlets, until golden, being careful not to burn. Move the cutlets as little as possible, a few minutes on each side should do it.
     When the chicken is lightly browned, add mushrooms and saute for an additional moment or two until 'shrooms begin to brown.
     Then, pour in enough wine to cover, bring to a boil, turn down heat to simmer, cover and let cook 10(?) minutes 'till reduced a bit and chicken is nice and tender.
     Just too tasty to be true, but indeed, it is true.
     Serve, garnished with fresh parsley, next to broccoli or what-have-you. In Italian places this is often served with Fettuccine Alfredo, but that's just too heavy for my taste. You do whatever you want. Enjoy!!!    

Quito Chaper 15. Wanda's Sentence.

     Page Two Hundred Sixty-One.
     Quito barked: "I've been feeling that I've been letting my powers go to waste. I think I should be doing more to help others, but I'm not sure how, or where. I think I was given my powers for a reason, and I want you to help me."
     Wanda looked at him quizzically yet harshly simultaneously and said, "What are you? An idiot? How can I help you?"
     "First of all, no, I'm not an idiot and don't you ever call me or anybody else that ever again. It's extremely mean and unkind. And second of all, I'm not sure exactly how you can help. But I need to start aiding others more and you need to start aiding anybody who's not you. So I want you to be my cohort when I'm on a mission. This'll be a perfect match. We'll be a team like Batman and Robin, Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, John Lennon and Paul McCartney or Hillary and Bill Clinton. You and I are going to be a canine Super-Team. How cool will that be?"
     Then Wanda began crying. Little, crystal-colored tears fell down her long, brown, regal, collie snout. This surprised Quito since he wasn't used to seeing villains cry. But he also knew why. She was so moved by his kindness, that her emotions were getting the best of her. He knew that she was so scared of her own feelings that she couldn't just graciously say "thank you". She'd spent so much energy and time over the years building up an emotional wall around herself that it was now as tall as the stately, beige, sandstone Terminal Tower and as wide as the maze-like, murky Cuyahoga River.
     Quito understood that some cats, dogs, tarantulas, porcupines and people feel so hurt by life events that they build up a protective barrier between themselves and others. They build this barrier, or wall, to keep themselves from getting hurt even more. They don't let anybody get too close. They don't tell people the truth about their own feelings. They don't trust anybody enough to tell hem when or why they're upset. Wanda was one of these dogs. She couldn't understand why Quito was being so nice to her. She rarely understand simple kindness because she'd seen so little of it in her life. So she started crying. But then she straightened up fast and got mean again.
     "Okay. Fine I'll help you do whatever you need. But don't expect me to be happy about it."
     Quito was perfectly unfazed by the idea of having a sidekick with an attitude problem. In fact, he thought it might add some entertainment and flavor to his missions (whatever his missions might end up being).
     But first things first... he wanted to get home and eat. (He had a real taste for Chicken Marsala.) And... speaking of which, where was he anyhow? And why did this hideout smell like lemon cleaner? And why was that odor so familiar?
     Continued next week... Chapter 16. Getting Home.