Nanny Nanny

I’ll admit: I went into *Nanny Nanny* expecting another *maybe-baby* narrative with a neat bow. Instead, I got a story that feels like eavesdropping on a woman’s late-night spiral after one too many glasses of wine—except the stakes are her entire life. Chiucarello’s writing is so visceral that there were moments I had to pause the audiobook just to sit with the discomfort. The protagonist isn’t likable in the traditional sense (she’s judgmental, occasionally selfish, and makes *questionable* decisions), but that’s the point. Bishop’s narration sells this perfectly—her delivery in the early chapters is almost detached, mirroring the protagonist’s emotional armor, but as the story progresses, her voice cracks in all the right places, especially during a devastating scene where the protagonist confronts her own complicity in a cycle of carework exploitation. The pacing is where things get tricky. The first half hums along with sharp observational humor and biting social commentary (the scenes skewering wealthy moms and their performative parenting are *chef’s kiss*), but the second act stumbles slightly under the weight of its own ambition. A subplot involving domestic violence feels tonally jarring next to the satire, and while it’s thematically relevant, the shift from dark comedy to outright bleakness isn’t as seamless as it could be. That said, the production itself is flawless—no awkward edits or volume inconsistencies—and Bishop’s ability to distinguish between the protagonist’s inner monologue and dialogue keeps the listen engaging even when the plot meanders. If you’re tired of books that treat motherhood like a hallowed institution (or a cute lifestyle brand), this is the antidote. Just don’t expect to walk away unchanged.