I was just wondering--how many times a day or week do people actually ring our doorbell/knock on our door?
Since we live in the Meth District, you don't get a lot of neighbors coming over. I guess they just expect us to come on over and pay a visit when we see that they've taken the aluminum foil out of their windows every so often.
The letter carrier doesn't ring much, and even when he does, he just leaves the thing and walks away, as does the UPS guy, usually.
That leaves door-to-door salespeople, and since the Home Maintenance System guy gouged us for $X00.00 a few months ago, I don't remember too many of them coming around either.
Friends after school usually call first, and even our next-door neighbor calls (usually it's to ask us to go over and help her when she's fallen and can't get up--she's elderly--not a drug addict). So how many surprise rings do we get in a week's time? About none. Maybe one.
(I am excluding one Particular Neighbor from these data, as he usually rings at exactly the moment we sit down to dinner, sit down to read scriptures, sit down to play a family game, or begin FHE. Not only does he ring, but the minute the door is cracked open, he walks in, sits down, and stays for a very, very, very long time. These visitations have dropped off dramatically since we ceased all of the aforementioned activities.)
Imagine my chagrin, then, to find myself facing the prospect of answering the door to an unknown entity this morning at 10:30 a.m., wearing mismatched pajamas, with unkempt hair and onion breath.
The odds of this happening are increased significantly when one takes into account that my recent dealings with the FlyLady have taught me to get up, shower, and dress early in the morning--in order to be ready for anything.
It's just that today I didn't have to drive anyone to school, have no fixed engagements, and I just felt like sitting around at my computer for a while in my pajamas, eating raw onions. Is that so wrong? So here's how it went:
First, I peeked out my blinds just in case it was the Stake President or something. Then I would run in and put clothes on and just leave him standing on the porch for a few minutes. It wasn't. In fact, in looking at the car, I believed it to be my friend the PTA president, who would get a huge laugh out of seeing me like that, so I opened the door a tiny crack.
It wasn't my friend. It was a different friend, who probably wouldn't think it was so funny after all.
Me (peeking around door and smiling, exuding onion scent): I'm in my pajamas.
Nervous Friend: Oh! It's just me!
Me (opening door): Well, HI!
NF (handing me two binders containing scripts): Um. IjustbroughtthesebyforyouandIcameby
yesterdayandnoonewashomesoIcamebacktoday.
Me: Great! Thank you!
NF: Okay, welltime'srunningshortandIthoughtyoumightneedthem . . . (backing off doorstep)
Me: Right, well, thanks very much.
NF (running down path to car): I'll be in touch!
Me: Byyyyyyye.
So. Something to put on your calendars. Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol," performed as a reader's theater by me and my talented husband, who really enjoys shaking Jacob Marley's chains and wailing real loud. Also a couple of other people. On or about December 6. At the local library, which has a fantastic building, auditorium, etc., but no books. Fortunately, you won't need books that night.
According to this script, apparently we will be receiving some visitors soon. Three, to be exact. "Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls One."
And even though Ebenezer Scrooge felt it was acceptable to go traipsing about the countryside in his dressing gown, I believe I'll feel more comfortable if I'm dressed.
3 comments:
Well, yeah, sort of. I was eating chicken salad (yes, for breakfast), and I think I added too much onion. It's very good, but very strong, as my friend can probably attest.
That is the best way to see who your real friends are. I brush my teeth with onion salt and wear a paisley kilt once a month just to weed out the superficial acquaintances. Good work.
People don't come by my place "just to stop by" very often, either. Yesterday, I was delighted and horrified when Tolkien Boy stopped in on me because he knew I was sick. I guess it's good that he didn't warn me, because then in my sick state, I would have cleaned my entire house and showered and got dressed. But I was still a little embarrassed.
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