A phone call from my son’s daycare teacher turned my life upside down. I’m Emily, 35, married to John, 38. We met in culinary school, bonding over our Italian roots and love for cooking. After graduating, we opened a small restaurant, got married, and had our son, Ethan. When Ethan started daycare, our restaurant took off, thanks to rave social media reviews. The long hours made it hard to manage parenting, so we decided to hire help. “We need someone for Ethan and the house,” I told John. Our neighbor’s daughter, Chloe, seemed perfect since she was always around. “Ethan’s a sweet, quiet kid,” John told her. “Just keep him happy and safe.”
With Chloe picking Ethan up from daycare, I felt relieved, knowing he wasn’t waiting too long. Our restaurant was booming, with reservations weeks out, but we got home late, around 9 p.m., when Ethan was heading to bed. He never said anything bad about Chloe, but we barely saw him awake. A week later, Ethan’s teacher, Mrs. Rachel, called with worrying news. “Emily, I don’t want to scare you, but Ethan cries when Chloe picks him up, even on great days. It’s happened three times this week,” she said. I was stunned. Ethan was a happy kid, always smiling, even when we were late. Something was off.
Maybe he misses us, I thought, since we only saw him briefly each day. I told John about the call, and we agreed to talk to Ethan and Chloe without overreacting. That night, as I tucked Ethan in, I asked, “How’s daycare, buddy?” He grinned. “It’s awesome! I play with my friends, Noah and Liam, and Mrs. Rachel is so nice.” But when I asked about Chloe, he mumbled, “She’s okay,” looking away. My gut screamed something was wrong. The next morning, I called Chloe. “Mrs. Rachel says Ethan cries when you pick him up. What’s going on?” I asked. “He probably misses you,” she said lightly. “He’ll adjust.”
Her response didn’t feel right, and I was restless all day. John noticed and agreed we should follow Chloe and Ethan after daycare to check things out. The next day, we left the restaurant to our manager and watched from a distance. Ethan was playing happily when Chloe grabbed him. “Can we play a bit more?” he pleaded. “No, we’re leaving,” she snapped. John whispered, “That’s too harsh.” We followed them home and saw Ethan alone in the yard, looking sad, while Chloe was inside, filming herself trying on clothes. “She’s ignoring him,” I said, my heart breaking.
We drove up, hugged Ethan, and confronted Chloe. She had no excuse, and John fired her on the spot. I thanked Mrs. Rachel, who said, “I know some great nannies if you need one.” Soon, we hired Sofia, a professional nanny. She cost more, but Ethan’s safety came first. I checked with Mrs. Rachel weekly and asked Ethan about Sofia. “She’s the best!” he beamed. “She plays with us after school.” One night, Sofia brought Ethan to the restaurant, and we started a tradition of sharing a meal together after closing. Mrs. Rachel’s call and my instincts saved Ethan from neglect, and Sofia brought back his joy. Now, we’ve found a balance that keeps our family close, no matter how busy work gets.
