“My parents pay you enough to get me ice cream whenever I want,” says the kid I pick up every day from school. He tells me he loves me every day, too, but still. No one warned me being a nanny for this long would feel like this—like shit, but also like love. I love him so much but sometimes I want to leave him here, just to see how he’d find his way home. I remind myself to breathe. I remind myself that no matter what, anything is better than going back home. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go home, buddy."
Arianne Oviedo, from Venezuela, is a writer/editor established in New York City. She spends her time writing and thinking about the kids she used to babysit. www.arianneoviedo.com/about Instagram @escritosdeari