A real-life nanny dishes about working in a house that employed NINE other nannies for three kids.

Guest blogger Mary Poppins: No, this is not a joke. Let me introduce myself, I'm one of your many babysitters. Maybe you don't remember me because you have so many, but you trust me with your children's well-being on an hourly basis.

I got this job through my friend who told me your oldest daughter was the devil, but I didn't believe her. However, I was wrong. After a pleasant first week of babysitting for your three children, I was seriously questioning my friend's judgment because your kids were so adorable. It wasn't until week two that I realized that she was completely correct. Your children are some of the worst I have ever encountered ... but after spending time with you and your husband, I cannot really blame them.

Let's recap one particular evening that stands out in my mind. You and your husband went to dinner at the local country club. I, being the nice person I am, complimented you on your blouse. You responded by telling me you got it at Forever 21. Guess what? You are not 21, you are 35. I am 21 and I would not be caught dead in that top, if you can even call it that. The worst part was that you had your 4-year-old daughter tell you that you looked pretty. I'm so glad you are teaching your 4-year-old that pretty means wearing practically no clothes. I think that will be really great for her self-esteem as she grows up.

So you left with your husband, and I settled in to watch your kids. Your twin 10-month-olds started to scream immediately when I took them away from their "Baby Einstein" video for dinner and would not settle down until I put them back in front of the TV. Dinner went well until your 4-year-old demanded that I give her ice cream even though you told her specifically that she could not have any. When I said, "Mommy said no," she stripped out of her clothing and ran around your house screaming at the top of her lungs. This set off your twins. So now it's 7:30 PM and all of your kids are screaming. At this point, I'm thinking this is so not worth the hourly wage I am getting. But I settle your children down with the promise of a board game and pacifiers.

Your daughter takes me to your room to get the game and points to the wall. "Isn't Mommy pretty?" she asks. I look up and see photographs of you ... NAKED! To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was speechless. You have naked pictures of yourself plastered all around your room. Maybe if you had said your room was off-limits, I would understand, but you told me that is where all the play things are and I should feel free to go in there. G.R.O.S.S. I don't know how I will ever look at you again. I'm appalled.

You and your husband come home and ask how the kids were. Before I can say anything, you ask: "Were they brats tonight?" Well, since you apparently know they act out, I tell you the truth. "Yes, your children were brats tonight." You shrug and say: "I know. That is why we have 10 nannies and babysitters. I don't want to burn you guys out too quickly". Oh. My. God. What do I say to this? How do I respond? You know your kids are bad and you just don't care? What in the world is wrong with you?