Once again I will set the scene:
9:30am Wednesday morning---my house.
I am sitting at the table working on a puzzle...very important stuff. My children are checking and double checking to make sure that they didn't miss any spots on the floor after the first cheerios spillage extravaganza. When they are through with that, they decide that it isn't enough to be wading knee-deep in cheerios...but that you should also have a nice collection of toys scattered around to break up the monotony (and to go with the basket of laundry that I am putting off folding). I also feel it is necessary to add that I was in my old gray bathrobe which adds lumps to an already lumpy body and makes me nicely cylindrical. Anthony is in his size 5 p.j's which are looking a little too small and Irene is in Anthony's size 6 p.j's which are definitely looking too large and very puffy as she actually is wearing her own outfit underneath. We weren't looking pretty this morning!
So as the kids and I were watching I Love Lucy at an unreasonable sound level (sorry Edgard...when the cat's away the mice will play...loudly) while pursuing our own endeavors. When out of the kitchen window, I see the top of a man's head passing by on its way to our front door. I thought, fleetingly, of pretending I wasn't home but realized as Ricky was shouting at Lucy that it might be obvious that were were home. I then reluctantly shuffled to the front door with a resigned, embarrassed glance at the mess within the living room. I opened the door and, behold, the head was attached to a body. The man (about 18 to 21 I would imagine) asked how I was doing and when I said fine he then introduced himself as Oliver. As he started in I faintly wondered what he was going to try to sell me when I suddenly realized that I was straining to understand him. I had a real life honest to goodness Frenchman at my doorstep! He was such a nice polite young man that he didn't even blink at my robe, the children's attire and the general slovenly appearance of the abode (bless his French little heart).
So as he went into his sales pitch, I figured that the best thing for me, when I am caught in a situation like this, is to be as graceful as I can. For one fleeting moment my children stood in rapt attention as he showed very beautiful children's books that he was offering for sale. He then asked how old the children were and when I told him. He then asked if we at all liked books. I laughed and said yes with a quick glance around my living room at all the books. Well, at that, my children hightailed it to unknown parts of the house. I listened politely while trying to think of a classy way to explain to him that I am way too cheap to buy his company's nice books. Suddenly my daughter reappeared in her hideously over sized p.j's and I thought, well if I take those off really quickly, then Oliver can see that I manage to get at least 1/3 of this zoo dressed in the morning. I did that and Irene ran off in her nice girly pink top and shorts. She no sooner disappeared when here comes Anthony with his Bible, no less. I sent him off and back comes Irene who starts chanting "down, down, down" which means up. I pick her up while at the same time unwittingly entering myself in to a one sided staring contest. I continue to politely listen to Oliver but can feel the beady little eyes staring at the side of my head with fierce intensity. More sales talk on Oliver's side, more polite listening from me and more staring from Irene. After I burst out laughing I apologized to Oliver and mumbled something about my children being clowns. The words no sooner left my mouth when Anthony returned with the Bible still in his under sized p.j's but now with a badly bent bright red cowboy hat and some crooked sunglasses. At this point all grace has left me and I am just waiting for the opportunity to tell Oliver that there is no way we can buy his overpriced books and at the same time turning Anthony around to the general direction of his bedroom. He leaves but then promptly returns without hat and glasses but reading his Bible upside down. I turn him around to his bedroom again and hiss "go get dressed". I then have a few moments alone with Oliver to try to get things wrapped up when here they come again.... the children. This time they are both respectably dressed and both with their Bibles. They cop a squat right at the door in a nice church camp bonfire formation and proceeded to read their own bibles. At this point Oliver was packing fairly quickly. If by any chance you read this, Oliver: You got a true picture of my life.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Once again I will set the scene: