Motherhood, The Second OldestProfession by Erma Bombeck Read Free Book Online

lemonade stand and every kid in the neighborhood slept through three meals.
    Carol from the university lasted only a week, when the children began quoting from a Cheech and Chong album, causing Louise's teeth to go numb.
    In the fall of 1979, Louise and her husband succumbed to temptation—a paying job that would take all her energies and time. She was chosen to serve as director of the Tinkerbell Child Care Center. Louise was ecstatic. She would have more responsibilities than she had ever had before, and for the first time there would be a price tag on her worth. She began a serious talent search for a surrogate Mother of the Year.
    That's when she found Estelle. Estelle was too good to be true. She was young, had two children of her own, knew how to entertain them, feed them, and discipline them with firmness and love. She also drove.
    Estelle had been a single parent for two years and had been through an entire alphabet of government services and organizations. At the moment, she was enrolled in the Social Awareness Program for Black Women that met in the church social hall every Wednesday.
    She dropped her children, Glenn and Missy, off at the nursery in the room next door and took her place at a long table holding the Craft of the Day.
    Today's project was simple enough. All she had to do was paint a cigar box and let it dry. Then take pieces of macaroni, dip them in paste, and place them on top of the cigar box. When it was completely covered, she sprinkled the entire box with sequins and, voila, a jewelry box.
    The only problem was she had no jewelry.
    Estelle fingered the macaroni slowly and wondered about her life. What did she have to show for her two years at SAPFBW? A macrame pot. A crocheted Mexican hat that fit over a bottle of Tabasco sauce, a picture of an English cottage in bottle caps, and a piggy bank made out of a bleach bottle.
    And now the pasta experience.
    Angry with herself, she grabbed the bag of macaroni, took it home, cooked it and vowed to find a job.
    Estelle loved her children and didn't want them to suffer for her restlessness. She had heard good things about the Tinkerbell Child Care Center.
    “Do you have any questions about us?” asked Louise Concell. “After all, that's what I'm here for.”
    “Do you keep the children busy?” asked Estelle. “I mean, I don't want a place where they nap all day long.”
    “I think you'll find we have a superb activities program,” said Louise.
    “What about the teachers? My kids have never been away from me for any length of time.”
    “They love them as they do their own. Trust me,” smiled Louise.
    “I want someone around my children who doesn't consider it just a job but who really wants to be with them.”
    “I understand perfectly,” said Louise, smiling. “We close at 6:15. Is that a problem?”
    “Actually, I don't have a job yet,” said Estcllc. “I wanted to try the children out here while I start looking.”
    I^)uise pushed her glasses to the top of her head. “I l.ivc you thought of child care?”
    Estelle shook her head.
    “You see, I have two young children at home and I was looking for someone to sit with them. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
    “That's what I'm here for,” said Estelle.
    “I would want planned activities for the children so they're not watching the tube all day. They have such a low threshold of interest. You know, busy work.”
    “I've had plenty of experience with that in the last couple of years.” Estelle smiled.
    “My children would have to like you. You see, I've always been a mother who has stayed at home, and they're not used to being around anyone else.”
    “I've always been good with children. Trust me.”
    “This is difficult for me to explain,” said Louise, “but my children have always been rather special to me and I don't want someone who is just being with them for money, but someone who really loves them and wants to be with them.”
    “I know where you're coming