I went to my first daycare interview today.
I dressed up. I arrived on time. I wondered if I parked in an okay spot. (Turned out to be okay.)
A friendly woman and long-time helper (assistant) greeted me. I was welcomed by her warmth and by a smell of veggies rotting in the kitchen. Mmmm.
No children found. Anywhere.
The kitchen outside of the stink? Spotless.
A cute bench/breakfast bar was shown and two vacant highchairs pointed out.
Next I was escorted to the bathroom where several toilet coverings especially for tots were lying. Clean. Phew!
A changing table was found at arm’s length.
The house is similar to that of one we would have looked at if it were for sale: vintage, with many nooks and crannies, lovely. Brookline-esque, if there is such a thing.
We wander into the playroom. A bright blue (scoring points already!) light-filled room with a television bigger than two closets at our house put together was shown off. The television, well, it was off. Toys were shelved neatly away. We are now distant from the veggie stink. Ahhh.
But where are the kids? I hear something!
Three-season porch…there they are! No infants are currently enrolled. Only a handful of toddlers were mingling. So adorable. Their staring eyes showing off that they can put their spring jackets on all by themselves and tell us the colors that they are.
And then I’m lead to a large one story deck with a fence. They’ll be taking a walk soon…I wanted to stay; it looked like it couldn’t hurt…
One cat, but the damn smell. What gives?
I survived my first interview. It felt good to get one under the belt. I was too nice. I didn’t ask enough questions.
Well, there’s always the second interview. Or, maybe I’ll employ myself with the job full-time.