Thirty Eight

Vlad

Whenever I visited home, my nanny never failed to pumped me up with food, fruits and lots of greens. I didn't know if she was trying to kill me with food, but she made sure to dish out a sizeable amount of food and watch me finish it.

"Eat up. You need all the iron you can get," she said, sitting opposite me and sipping her finger tea.

I rolled my eyes, but I knew better than to argue. "Yes, captain. Just so you know, I'm not eating this because I want to, but because you're forcing me. That reminds me, my friends are coming over later in the evening. You need to cook up a storm."

My nanny groaned. She wasn't a fan of my friends. To be fair, she wasn't a fan of anyone except me.

While I was rounding up my lunch, I heard my nanny and Dimitri arguing as usual and headed to the living room to watch them because my nanny often used the most profane, old school rejoinders like lackey dog, wanker and baloney to insult the poor guy and in turn, Dimitri called her flannel mouth.