Making of 'The Nanny Diaries': Bravo Special Page #5

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for Grayer's sake.

Rule number one:

Grayer and his playmates

are never allowed

- in the master bedroom.

- Oops.

Of course, you should refrain from

entering our bedroom as well.

Rule number two:

Grayer is never allowed

to nap during the day.

No naps?

This throws his sleeping

schedule completely off.

And I prefer him tired

when I get home.

Rule number three:

- we just had the walls redone.

- Mm-hm.

Please keep Grayer from

rubbing up against them.

- Oh!

- Rule number four:

if school is

ever canceled,

the following nonstructured

outings are permissible...

the Met,

the Morgan Library,

the French

Culinary Institute,

the New York

Stock Exchange.

Rule number five!

- we do not take

the subway because of germs.

Oh God.

Grayer still must

be in a stroller

- when crossing Park or Madison.

- Blah blah blah.

Grayer maintains

a high-soy

organic diet.

Rule number eight:

practice French with Grayer

at least three times a week.

His father wants him to

attend Collegiate

where he's currently

wait-listed.

French?

Holy merde.

His acceptance is

a top priority.

Mon Dieu.

Nanny?

Nanny?

- What are you doing?

- The note said

to pick up Grayer

from school at 2:15.

Hm.

And it's only...

it's only 1:
00.

So I was a little sweaty from moving

and I thought that I would, you know...

What I mean is, what are you

doing in that bathtub?

And why are your bags

strewn all over

the guest room?

I thought that

was my room.

No.

No, Nanny.

This is your room.

Oh.

Okay.

Yeah, this is...

very sweet.

Hmm.

I'm sorry.

Do you have the time?

So they'll be getting out

anytime now?

- 2:
45.

- I'm sorry?

They get out

every day at 2:
45.

Dumbass.

It quickly became clear

that Mrs. X had arranged

for me to arrive everywhere

torturously early.

Get ready, ladies.

Here they come.

Grayer?

Grayer?

- Grayer X?

- Who is it you're looking for?

- Grayer.

- I know that one.

He plays with my

wee monster, Darwin.

- Hy-ya!

- Ow!

Oh, Grayer,

there you are.

Hey, little man,

you remember me?

Yes, and I hate you!

What? Come on, we get

along great, remember?

Like when we met

in Central Park?

Let me get

your backpack.

Stop. Grayer, stop.

Help, police! She's hurting me!

- They usually start out that way.

- Yes.

- Danger, danger!

- Just be patient, eh?

- Let me put you in your stroller, okay?

- It'll get easier.

- Hang on one second.

- I'm too big for a stroller!

- Grayer!

- Help!

- Grayer!

- Police.

Grayer!

Grayer!

Grayer!

Come here!

- I hate you, I want Bertie!

- I know, honey.

I know you want Bertie.

Bertie had to leave to get married

or go on a date

or something, okay?

But I promise, we're gonna have a lot

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