The following day
Shonee's POV
"...Scared, the pickle princess quickly ran up to the palace and locked herself in the highest room of the tallest tower."
I watched Mirasol help the pickle princess scramble up to her castle made from a stack of chicken nuggets and French fries.
"You know, as your nanny, I should probably be telling you not to play with your dinner," I began with a coy smile. "But I want to see the salad monster eat up the pickle princess."
Mirasol's face morphed into an expression of shock, making me laugh.
"You want the pickle princess to die? Nooo! Eat onion ring, salad monster fan!" She remarked in the pickle princess's high-pitched tone before tossing a crusty onion ring at me. I laughed even harder.
Sunday evenings were mostly quiet in the Beckham house and today wasn't any different. After a long day of board games, watching her favourite cartoons and playing dress-up with her dolls, Mirasol and I were having dinner alone, as usual. Avril was around. She came home about an hour ago and went straight to her bedroom without saying a word to us.
At least she was home. Ever since that unfortunate argument, Vincent, the supposed man of the house, hadn't come home or even bothered to try and get in touch with his daughter. It was like she was non-existent in his life and the only thing he cared about was work. If this was how things were before my arrival, then I don't blame Mirasol for being moody all the time.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention to the dining room entrance. In stepped Avril in a breath-taking evening gown that exuded sophistication. The gown featured a floor-length silhouette, gracefully hugging her curves before cascading into a subtle mermaid flare. The neckline was a classic V-neck, adorned with delicate beading that caught the light as she moved.
Damn, they don't call her fashionista extraordinaire for nothing, I thought.
"Shonee," She grinned. Her make-up and hairstyle made her look like a completely different person. "Just the person I wanted to see."
As she walked closer, Mirasol blew a raspberry at her, and I quickly shoved a nugget into her mouth.
"Hello, Avril." I stood up. "You're heading out tonight?"
"Yeah, I have a fundraiser gala tonight and immediately after that, I will be heading down to Paris for Fashion Week. I won't be around for the next two to three weeks, so if you need anything, you know who to ask."
"Of course, Avril." I beamed. "You have a wonderful night."
"Thank you. Be a good girl, you little minx." She ruffled Mirasol's purple hair, earning her a frown from the little girl, which she didn't even notice as she walked away, heels clacking on the tiled floor.
"What a bitch."
"Mirasol!" I whirled on her. "Don't ever use that word again. It's a really bad word and you shouldn't be calling your stepmum that."
"Sorry," she apologized, though it wasn't genuine. It came with an I-don't-care shrug.
I sighed. "Where did you learn that word from anyway?" I was pretty sure it wasn't from me or Gerta and we were the only ones Mirasol spent most of her time with.
"I learnt it from Mrs. Gutenberg."
My eyebrows flew up in utter shock. "Your etiquette classes teacher?"
"Yeah," Mirasol giggled. "There's a lady who calls Mrs. Gutenberg on the phone anytime she comes to teach me. When Mrs. Gutenberg sees that it's her, she gets angry and calls her a bitch."
My mouth just dropped open. Of all the teachers, I least expected her. The day I sat in her class she reminded me of those stuck-up teachers who were always bent on doing the right thing no matter the cost. Now she was mentioning inappropriate words in front of a five-year-old kid?
"Sometimes she calls her an old wench too," Mirasol added before slipping a single fry into her mouth.
"Forget all those words, Mirasol." I pointed a stern finger at her. "From here on out, I don't want to hear you use any of those words. If you do, no Toaster waffles for you, ever, you hear me?"
The warning rang loud and clear because Mirasol rapidly nodded, fear catching every inch of her face.
"Good." I pulled myself upright. If there was anything this brief conversation revealed, it was that Mirasol's home school schedule was nothing but a complete waste of time. This was just the proof I needed to get that absurd timetable out of here.
"Stay here and eat your dinner," I instructed before taking off after Avril. Hopefully, she hadn't left yet.
I scrambled out of the living room and into the foyer. "Avril, wait!" I caught up to her outside, just as she was about to get into the awaiting limo.
"Shonee," She turned, curiosity gracing her features. "Is there a problem?"
"Er, no." I brushed a loose braid out of my face. "I was actually hoping to get your permission on something."
"Ok?" She nodded. "Go ahead."
"It's about Mirasol's home school schedule. I sat in one of her classes the other day and I noticed it isn't as effective as it should be. Mirasol has even confided in me that some of the teachers use swear words in her presence and I figured that's not good at all."
"I agree," Avril responded in a heartbeat.
"So, I just wanted to ask for your permission to make some changes to the schedule. Just to ensure that Mirasol has a proper education."
"Oh you don't need my permission to do that, Shonee."
"Really?" I quizzed.
"Yeah, Mirasol is your responsibility now. If you think her schedule isn't good enough and you want to change it, go ahead, and knock yourself out. Just don't forget to inform Gerta so she knows who to take off the payroll."
"Uhh, yeah sure. I will, thank you."
With a smile, my boss got into her vehicle, and it sped out of the Beckham premises.
To be honest, I was quite surprised that she just gave me the green light with ease. I was expecting her to be a bit difficult and say something like 'The schedule was drafted by some of the finest preschool teachers in the country. You can't just take it down and do whatever you want.'
But she didn't say anything like that. Instead, she gave me full monopoly over Mirasol's activities, and I was about to use it to the best of my nanny abilities.
*****
Placing a step stool in front of the dormant fireplace, I stood on it and leaned forward, bringing down the wooden board that held the absurd schedule.
"What are you doing?"
When I turned, Gerta and Mirasol were standing right behind me, staring in wonder.
"You won't believe it but..." I hopped off the stool. "Avril just gave me permission to change Mirasol's schedule."
"Really?" Gerta's eyebrows flew up.
"Yeah!" I replied.
"Why are you changing my schedule?" Mirasol pouted. "I don't want to change my schedule."
"You're saying that now, but you know deep down that you don't like some of your classes, and this is a good opportunity to change them. We'll definitely be keeping some of the fun classes, like dance and music, but let's add more exciting ones. How about a science experiment class where we create colourful explosions or a storytelling class where we make up our own adventures?"
Mirasol's eyes lit up with excitement, and Gerta looked intrigued.
I continued, "And instead of a boring etiquette class, how about we have a cooking class where we make delicious snacks? Plus, we can invite some friends over for playdates to make it even more fun."
Gerta nodded approvingly, and Mirasol's initial resistance seemed to fade. "But what about nap time?" she asked with a concerned look.
"Don't worry, we'll still have nap time," I reassured her. "But maybe we can have a cosy reading corner with lots of colourful pillows where we can read exciting stories before nap time. How does that sound?"
Mirasol grinned, pleased with the proposed changes and Gerta chimed in with words of encouragement, "It sounds like a wonderful plan. Shonee, you have my support to make Mirasol's schedule more enjoyable and educational."
With a triumphant smile, I began outlining the new schedule on a fresh piece of paper, incorporating the changes we had discussed. The new plan embraced a mix of educational and entertaining activities, ensuring that Mirasol's learning experience would be both enriching and joyful.
As the three of us collaborated on the schedule, Mirasol's earlier resistance transformed into enthusiasm. The prospect of exciting classes, playful learning, and the addition of playdates made her genuinely excited about the upcoming changes.
With the revised schedule in hand, we set out to create an environment that not only nurtured Mirasol's academic growth but also fostered her creativity and happiness.