Friday, 26 November 2010
How to scare your parcel postie without really trying….
One day this week I decided to do some crafting before I got showered and dressed. Needed to get some sanding and painting done, so pulled a sweatshirt over my pjs and got to work. The work took longer than I had thought, thus, when the doorbell rang just after 2 p.m. I was – shame on me!! – still not properly dressed.
Before I reveal more, I wanted to say that I have a good friend B. And she recently gave me a sort of miner’s light, with a stretchy band to fix it round my head. As I have had a lot of eye operations, I don’t see very well, and need a good source of light directed exactly there where I am working.
So far so good.
I was dressed in my grey and white striped pjs, with pink mice on the top, a bright red sweatshirt with alpine embroidery, my grey and white animal slippers – always a pretty sight! And my head-mounted spotlight. Oh, and sage green fingers from painting, and the foam brush held firmly in my left hand. Not really looking my best.
OK, I pressed the intercom, and a voice asked me if I could accept a parcel for a neighbour who wasn’t home. Sure, I said! The Postie staggered up the stairs carrying a giant parcel, and stared at me as if I was an apparition from Mars.
*You been looking for something?* he asked.
*You’ve got a spotlight on your head.*
*I was just painting.*
*Really?* he said rather doubtfully.
Hmm, I had forgotten it was switched on. No problem. Pressed the switch, and asked,
He grinned all over his face.
*Now you’re on blink modus, Lady. Better be careful, we’re near the airport. A plane might land on the house!*
With that he gave me the thing to sign, dumped the parcel, and disappeared with leaps and bounds down the stairs.
Then I went and looked at myself in the mirror.
PS: Another parcel came today, this time for me. He didn’t ring my bell, but gave it to the lady downstairs.
And the moral of the story?
There isn’t one. At my age, and especially at home, I can wear what I like, when I like. If the Postie doesn’t like it, that’s his problem!
PPS: The doorbell just sounded. I’M BUSY!!!