A few weeks ago there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find a delivery guy holding a gorgeous flower arrangement. Hubs was out of town and I immediately got all giddy.
Except they weren't for me.
Sure enough, the flowers had my address, but a name I didn't recognize. I sent the guy away and texted Hubs (sniff).
The following week, I opened the front door and tripped over a giant box of chocolate brownies. Of course, I didn't immediately know that they were brownies, that part came later. Again, not addressed to me, but interestingly addressed to the same person from the previous week.
This time I called the name of the company on the box and explained the situation. They told me to keep the box, which they explained was full of (perishable) brownies and cookies, they'd figure it out and resend it. After opening the box, and doling out a few brownies to the swarming horde, I found a pack slip with another phone number. I called that number and left a message.
Fast forward to dinnertime, I've got dinner sizzling on the stove, Little Guy half naked on the potty, and the door bell rings.
Turns out the recipient of the lovely gifts is my neighbor. She used to rent my house and eventually bought one up the street (see what I mean about the neighborhood, no one leaves). The gifts were for her partner, who had recently lost her mother after a long illness. She offered to pick up the package, and just as I was explaining that the company had told us to open it, Little Guy streaks by, still naked from the waist down. He makes a break for the front yard, where he pauses, takes note of the boys all agog out next door, and does a little dance on the sidewalk.
A half naked dance while I am trying to explain why we ate the bereavement brownies.
Yep.
1 comment:
Omg. That is so funny. At least you know how to make an impression.
Post a Comment