Tuesday, March 9, 2010

No Soliciting

For the past month I have been so excited that we finally got into a house, after I have spent the past 10 years in apartments. Sure we don’t own it, but so what. We can walk out the front door and step out onto a huge porch, and what is this, low and behold, grass. Our own mini field of grass. It’s like freeken’ Christmas came early, errr late, whatever. My boy can just run outside and start reaping havoc without having to follow him out, or making sure my door is closed so the drunken neighbors don‘t wander in looking for my alcohol cabinet anymore, or making sure he doesn’t fall down the stairs into the subterranean parking lot, or making sure I remembered my keys so we don’t get locked out of the front gate, or without having to keep an especially close eye on him because if he takes a wrong step he might fall off the 3 foot wide strip of grass we had at the apartment and land in the street, or any other multitude of crappy things that come with living in an apartment with kids.

So with as excited as I have been, it nearly all came crashing down today. My boy is near two, and he is slowly becoming increasingly difficult to put down for a nap. And we have a newborn, need I say more about that and how it affects our sleep. Mid-day, and everyone was lacking sleep and was ready for a nap. The boy was in his room, just finally laid down in his crib after yelling for thirty minutes and trying to climb out. Lilly had just fed the newborn and plopped her head down. And I just fell asleep thirty seconds earlier, during the latest episode of The Misadventures of Flapjack. When the doorbell rang, and rang, and rang. I could see my boy jump up in his crib through the monitor, and start yelling again. The newborn started stirring, then threw up. Lilly cursed and her bloodshot eyes creaked open. And I opened my eyes back to Flapjack. One dam doorbell, and the entire family was awake, just like that. Then I heard two woman cackling like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off on the front porch. For nearly three whole minutes as we all lay there in bed waiting for them to disappear, they were talking so loud I could hear them all the way to the back of the house through my bedroom door. I walked to the front room and stared at them through the crease in the blinds, and waited for them to leave. Later I noticed they left a pamphlet on the mat which was advertising a local city councilman’s fireside meeting at a neighbors house. Who the hell cares about local politics when we have babies that have kept us up all night you dumb bitches!

So, houses suck. I want an apartment where no one can get in to ring my dam doorbell. I now know why old people have those ‘no soliciting’ signs on their door where the knocker should be. It’s because when they were young and had kids, they got sick and tired of people ringing their bell and waking everyone up, and since the sign worked, they just left it. I’m getting me a no soliciting sign. Hopefully it will keep the girl scouts away too, because I would rather choke on a stick of red sidewalk chalk than try to get down one of those dry, powdery concoctions. And I’ll be damned if they try and pitch me a box of those while my boy’s naptime comes around. Dammit. Ar.


Brandy said...

YES! I know exactly what you mean. When I had the flu in Sept I was home (duh.) and Jehovah witness' came to my door. I opened the door and politely HACKED that I was sick as I was shutting the door.

They actually tried to talk to me! Ask me if they could come back and shit. NO!NO!NO! Just go away! I screamed and slammed the door. Sheesh.

I'm sure they prayed for my soul as they left.

TentCamper said...

I hear you my man!!! I get the gamut of freaks every freakin day...and I hate it when they have the nerve to knock even after seeing us all sitting at the dinner table.
If I wanted to become a Scientologist...I'd go to their church.

dadshouse said...

This is hilarious. I'm laughing out loud. I totally feel your pain! Home ownership is great when you're raising kids, but sleep is damn precious when you're not getting it.

Get a fence and a pit bull, and you'll sleep fine. Ha!

Dr. Heckle said...

That happened to me once, except I opened the door and the really WERE chickens! Freaked me out. Couldn't figure out how they rang the doorbell...

Shelle-BlokThoughts said...

OH MY HECK! I hate that with a passion... hate... that...

I am just getting all steamed up thinking about it.

Without FAIL it happened every time I get the difficult child to sleep!


Good post!

The Pipster said...

Surfer Jay, that blows! When your boy starts trying to climb out of the crib, get a crib tent. I used that for a bit with mine. It's safe and effective.

Queenpeahead said...

We get a few religious nut jobs at our door, and I have come quite accustomed to getting them to flee.

Best one so far was by per chance. The door knocked, I answered it, just after my daughter thrust an object in my hand, and saw two little old ladies grinning madly at me. As I asked if I can help them (knowing who they were) their grins started to fade, replaced by looks of shock horror.
They stammered something about being friends of Jesus, thrusting a tiny booklet in my hands with a picture of happy Jesus and his nimble, dancing lambs. Before I even had chance to answer they had scampered off, horrified backward glances thrown my way.
It was not till I closed the door and caught the reflection of me in my hall mirror, I understood.

I was wearing rubber gloves, holding a marrow in one hand with a tiny tub of vaseline in my other hand....

There is always a clean explanation (I was about to de-seed the marrow for dinner, wearing gloves as hate the feel, and my daughter had given me the tub of vaseline because I had just complained my lips were dry), but those dirty minded old God lovers saw it all in a whole different light!

LiteralDan said...

I'm lucky enough to live far enough off the beaten path to not have to worry about unwelcome visitors (or even many welcome visitors, for that matter!), it's definitely one of the pluses of living out here!

The "No Soliciting" sign on the door and a "Beware of Dog" sign on the gate (if you don't have one, get one if you can!) should do the trick.

Good luck, and congratulations!

Joanna Cake said...

Ruf and I got interrupted in a session of afternoon delight by Jehovah's Witnesses. He wasn't going to answer it but I was expecting a parcel. We both lay there silently arguing until he slid out of me, donned his dressing gown and, very begrudgingly, went to the door.

Despatching the godly folk with the short shrift of 'Im a Buddhist', his accusatory stare when he returned to the bedroom let me know that it was down to me to return his manhood to its previous state in order to continue :)

PS - he lives in a flat that has an external door. I live in a flat too but there's still a very loud buzzer to alert me that deliverymen or visitors want to get in.

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