In his frenzy to ‘organize’ the basement, Crazy D has taken to Kijiji to offer items for sale. Sometimes I am aware of these pending events, sometimes not.
The other morning, he came into the kitchen and announced: “Mom, the doorbell may ring soon…”
“Oh? And why is that?” We don’t generally encourage people to come to our door and ring the bell. If close friends need access to the house, they either walk in through the garage or (in summer) peer in through the deck screen door until we notice them standing there. If it’s someone who has to ring the front door bell, chances are very good that we have no business with them and certainly don’t want to see them. And if they ring the bell, they have obviously not taken seriously the warning sign clearly posted as a deterrent on the door.
Crazy D explained: “I put an ad for my drums on Kijiji and a guy is coming to look at them.”
Now I realize that lots of people sell things this way but I am the tiniest bit paranoid about letting strangers into my house…especially ones looking for cheap stuff. But since Crazy D is here, I don’t worry too much. Somebody with ‘Crazy’ in their name says it all. He is my security system. Plus, we have The Pig, the Guard Beagle to protect us. Other neighbors have ‘Protected By ADT ‘ signs; we have a ‘Guard Beagle on Duty’ sign. That’s right, you perps, the beagle will set upon you with her ‘cute’.
You might think that L’il Sis’ and Crazy D’s cleaning out of things would be a positive thing, that they would be creating all sorts of extra space. Not really. They have, in conjunction with the disposals, been doing some shopping on the internet and so things arrive at the door almost every day. And since I am the one most reliably home, I get to answer the door and claim the package. Books, bicycle parts, dresses, athletic gear have all conspired to fill any vacant spaces they have created with their purges.
Normally I don’t mind. It’s like Christmas for me since I don’t know what’s inside. I have to quell my natural curiosity until the owner returns home. And by that time, having had all day to ponder, my stomach is in knots, excitement building to a crescendo like a kid waiting for Santa’s gift. Then the recipient has the fun of opening it and enjoying the contents. In my best imitation of a spoiled toddler, I pouted. I wanted some of that!
And so it was that, the following day, I made a trip to my favourite department store to track down a certain red dress advertised in a special flyer that came with the paper. I am still pretty much old school and rarely buy anything via the Internet, so in-person retail therapy was my solution to the current problem.
I took the picture with me, like a map to lead me to the treasure. I found it, but in a slightly larger size than I normally take. Desperate to have it fit, I tried it on. It was perfect except for a gaping bit in the back. Perhaps a dressmaker could work magic on it and make it fit. I inquired as to the possibility of getting my exact size from another store. I was informed that it could be ordered and mailed to my house within 5 business days. Of course, there was no guarantee that the other one would fit perfectly. What did I do? I took them both, of course. I had the instant gratification of the store-bought dress and the anticipation, the excitement of having the other one delivered to my door I knew not exactly when, AND the fun of opening the package, my Santa fantasies satisfied. I too was now one of the ‘club’, one of the people for whom the doorbell rings. And, after I’d had all this fun, I could still return either or both to the local store for a refund. Even Santa doesn’t have a return policy like that.