Free Essays on Mrs Wanda

Mrs. Wanda On July sixth, 1988, I turned five years old. It had been a difficult year. My parents were going through a tough divorce, and as much as a five-year-old could be bitter, I was. About three months after my dad moved out of our house, my mom got a new job. Of course this new job did not appeal to me at all. My mom had always been home with us. She had quit working when I was born, and had always devoted every second of her time to me. The only solution to the mom-going-to-work-thing was a babysitter. Mom began to take interviews in our living room every afternoon. As every nanny left, my head was the first to shake from left to right. I was a very aware five year old (and very spoiled too, so that didn’t help much). But for some reason my mom always listened to me. Because we were without a babysitter, we spent every day for about a month with my grandmother. One late August afternoon my family was called in to Deautrive Hospital. My great grandmother was sick and had been rushed there in an ambulance. A puzzled feeling came over me as I got out of the car. As I entered the hospital a stench arose in my nose. It was the scariest place that I had ever encountered. I slowly walked towards my grandmother’s room and my mom opened the door. She was laid out in a large hospital bed with her feet propped up. Nurses came in and out, giving her IVs and medicine. There was one particular nurse that stayed by her side the entire time. She was an African American lady of medium build with a sweet and concerned voice. It seemed as if we were in they hospital for hours. Throughout the time that we were there this one particular nurse kept me occupied. After a while, my mom and the nurse began to talk. My mom told her that she was looking for a babysitter. Within a week, the nurse called my house and an interview was set up. Kindergarten was beginning in a week, and we had just returned from buying school supplies at Wal-Mart. About... Free Essays on Mrs Wanda Free Essays on Mrs Wanda Mrs. Wanda On July sixth, 1988, I turned five years old. It had been a difficult year. My parents were going through a tough divorce, and as much as a five-year-old could be bitter, I was. About three months after my dad moved out of our house, my mom got a new job. Of course this new job did not appeal to me at all. My mom had always been home with us. She had quit working when I was born, and had always devoted every second of her time to me. The only solution to the mom-going-to-work-thing was a babysitter. Mom began to take interviews in our living room every afternoon. As every nanny left, my head was the first to shake from left to right. I was a very aware five year old (and very spoiled too, so that didn’t help much). But for some reason my mom always listened to me. Because we were without a babysitter, we spent every day for about a month with my grandmother. One late August afternoon my family was called in to Deautrive Hospital. My great grandmother was sick and had been rushed there in an ambulance. A puzzled feeling came over me as I got out of the car. As I entered the hospital a stench arose in my nose. It was the scariest place that I had ever encountered. I slowly walked towards my grandmother’s room and my mom opened the door. She was laid out in a large hospital bed with her feet propped up. Nurses came in and out, giving her IVs and medicine. There was one particular nurse that stayed by her side the entire time. She was an African American lady of medium build with a sweet and concerned voice. It seemed as if we were in they hospital for hours. Throughout the time that we were there this one particular nurse kept me occupied. After a while, my mom and the nurse began to talk. My mom told her that she was looking for a babysitter. Within a week, the nurse called my house and an interview was set up. Kindergarten was beginning in a week, and we had just returned from buying school supplies at Wal-Mart. About...