Dear Super Nanny,
Super? So you think you’re an action hero. And what is your power exactly? Tearing families apart?
Since your show started and like a pregnant spider exploded into countless demonic spin-offs, children around the world have been suffering from your ridiculous and terrible ideas. The fact that parents are starting sentences off with “Well, on Super Nanny…” to excuse the creation of time out spots and restrictions on big bed time only adds evidence to my claim.
You walk around with that wool cloak looking like the manager of Hogwarts. I’m not scared of you. The day you come into my home expect Armageddon because I’m going to bring it. Nanny, you don’t know my life. You don’t know my situation. Were at my birth? Are you my midwife? No. So you don’t know what I need.
Nanny there is talk on the playground. Real talk. You’re being watched.
You can’t just think you can create chore charts for people too young to even read and think you’re going to get away with it. Lots of us have systems in our homes that are working just fine. This is America, not boarding school. I don’t know how things in work in England but here across the pond we wear Crocs -plastic shoes- in broad daylight. We don’t eat crumpets; it’s cereal in dollar store tupperware all day long. And juice. Our juice is red and cold like the vengeance I’m about to unleash on you shortly after nap time today depending on how I feel.