Our Third Daughter

I'm doing some light house cleaning today in between work projects. Hanifa can't come today because she's doing an internship this summer and has to work late.

Hanifa is our "third daughter." We met her over two years ago in the lobby of our apartment building. I was wheeling the stroller in after picking up my oldest daughter, Chloe, from school. A nice teenager came up to me and said "Bonjour," and I spoke to her. She began talking to me but it was clear that I didn't understand a word she was saying. It must of been that ever-present puzzled look on my face. Then she said the magic words, "I speak English!" Hallelujah, I thought to myself. At last someone around here speaks English, and we became fast friends.

She started off just coming by to help Chloe with her homework because I wasn't much help. Philippe works pretty late each night so it was a blessing to have someone available to drop by after school.

Then Hanifa moved up to babysitting Jillian for short periods of time while I went grocery shopping or to the post office. I remember the first time she kept her. I went to pick up Chloe from school and I left a sleeping Jillian with Hanifa. Apparently Jill woke up in a panic because approximately one block away from the apartment, Chloe and I met Hanifa and a screaming Jillian. She was trying to find me in hopes that maybe I could quiet my little demon baby!

She also helps me with a little light cleaning (washing up the morning dishes or supervising Chloe and Jillian as they clean their rooms) but nothing remotely that would make her feel like Hazel, the maid. Although her dad insists that I should make her work hard, I never do. She's a kid and anything she does is a big help for me. Plus the pocket change probably comes in handy since most students here don't work because they carry such heavy class loads.

Hanifa is your normal teenager. She's a great kid and while she steps out of line occassionally, she does all the typical things teens do back in the US, like she drinks all of the orange juice and puts the empty carton back in the fridge. When she's out of line my husband or I just put her back where she belongs. Sure, she gets angry with us (like typical teens) but in a respectful and parental way and not for long. She'll stay away for a couple of days only to return as if nothing ever happened.

She was born in Algeria but came to France orginally as a small child. Her dad is a diplomat so she has lived almost everywhere and she already speaks Arabic, French, Spanish and English. She's even teaching Chloe and Jillian Arabic. I help her with her English homework and she help me with my French homework. She's at the university now, but still drops by after school every day as usual. I'll miss her when she goes on holiday this summer.

Philippe has nicknamed her "Kramer" after the Seinfeld character. Short from having a key to our home, she makes herself at home just as much as Kramer ever did at Jerry's place. For example now when she comes by to help Chloe with her homework, she grabs her regular snack and drink. Afterwords, you're likely to find her strawn about on our sofa watching MTV or some other cable program, or chatting it up with her boyfriend online, applying her makeup in the bathroom while her "little sisters watch" or even washing her hair and changing her clothes before a Friday-night date. A priceless moment comes when she (in her heavy English accent) is trying to tell Chloe the words to the latest Usher song! She spends so much time at our house that when her parents are looking for her, they come to our place first. When Chloe had a birthday party two weeks ago, Hanifa dropped by the local McDonalds to see if I needed help!

That's our third daughter, I guess and we're very protective of her, too! A couple of months ago, I was holding a client meeting at my home. Three very young and attractive guys came as I had commissioned them to work on a project for my client. As I talked to them about the project, I mentioned that I had to leave soon to pick up my other daughter. One of guys said to me, "I thought you only had two daughters." I said that I did. He said, "Isn't that pretty girl in the other room your daughter, too?" I replied with a smile, "No, not exactly however, she's like our daughter. Therefore, you would fair well to think of her as my daughter and treat her with respect." They got the picture. We returned to our meeting, but not without my first putting my "mother" hat back on and reminding my "third daughter" that those guys in the other room were young but way too old for her so stop flirting with them!" I guess I got a glimpse of what I'll be like when my "other two" daughters are old enough to date. Heaven help us!