My son has declared himself our housekeeper. After getting over the initial shame we couldn’t be more thrilled. We feel very Upper East Side now, and it’s all thanks to the boy. Sure he’s four but he is totally committed to being the best darn house keeper we’ve ever had. The best part is that we only have to pay him in chicken nuggets, quarters, and love. I know that some of you are wondering how my wife and I have arrived at such great fortune. Well, it all stated this morning…

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.” “Whaaaaat?” I asked through the foam of minty fresh toothpaste.

“I’m the housekeeper,” he grinned.

“Huh? I thought you were the bus driver.”

“I am. I work for the Manhattan Division, but I’m also the housekeeper.” We have a mini Tony Danza here. And without question he’s the boss. Great.

Moments later we decided to use some psychological warfare to deter the boy from his newly chosen profession. (I really want him to be in a scientist of some kind.) We commenced the interrogation.

“Do you know what a housekeeper does?”

“Uh, no.”

“Well a house keeper has to do all the cooking and cleaning for a family. That means when you get home from school you’ll have to clean the bedrooms, the bathroom, and the kitchen. Then once all that is done you’ll have to cook us dinner. Do you still want the job?”

“Yes. When I get home from school I’m going to clean the whole house and cook dinner.”

“So what are you cooking tonight, kid?”

“Hot dogs and broccoli for you me and mommy.”


I left my office this evening feeling the weight of another long day, and that of the commute ahead, in every stride. The evening was closing in gray around me to match my mood. Without thinking I pulled my Razr from my pocket and called home.

“Hey. What are you guys doing.”

“Devin’s cleaning up. He was set in his mind that he was the housekeeper and that he had work to do. It was all he could talk about until he got into the house and got to work.”

I picked up the pace, cutting through the thick city crowds faster than my shoes knew how. I had to catch my reformed Devil in action. I knew it was not likely, my commute being 90 minutes and all, but I tried anyway. By the time I reached home the boy was in bed. But my arrival gave him an excuse to run from his bedroom and greet me. Between him and his mother I found out that Devin won a sticker in school because of his great singing, that he cleaned up his bedroom, put away his clean laundry, picked up some clothes in my room, and wiped down the bathroom sink and kitchen table. He even swept a little and made the salad we had with dinner. His pride beamed from his face. For all his hard work he earned $ .50 and a lollipop. Tomorrow I’m going to get him to wash the car.

Best. Housekeeper. Ever.