Received Monday, March 19, 2007
I was standing near the Larchmont train station at about 8:00 a.m. Your nanny had clearly just seen you off at the train with your adorable little daughter,aged two, or maybe a young three, dressed in a St.Louis cherry dress. Your nanny, I'm not sure if she's Filipino, Mexican, or some kind of mix, took a cellphone call and started jabbering in a foreign tongue while she stuffed a hot dog into your precious daughter's unwilling mouth. Your daughter tried her hardest to stop the hot dog force-feeding by clasping her hand over her own mouth while shouting, "No more hot dog!" The nanny responded by slapping your daughter's hand away from her mouth, and then PALMING the hot dog directly into her mouth. I marched up to the nanny and demanded she allow your daughter to spit out the unchewed hot dog onto the sidewalk. Your nanny does not speak sufficient English, even as I screamed and motioned vomiting by putting my own hand into my throat to simulate spitting out the hot dog. Your nanny did manage the words, "No lady, go! Go lady go!" She whirled the stroller around and headed toward the bagel shop, where I think she went in to meet a man. She left with him - an African American man about 30-ish with a goatee in an orange tracksuit. That was the last I saw of them. Please, I hope you can identify your nanny and find someone to translate proper feeding techniques to her. Your child looked so unhappy.