The Old Lady

Every parent dreads that moment. You know the one. It's the worse timing ever. You and your husband/wife behind locked doors. The passion is heating up. Crucial moments starting to peak, almost within reach.



KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!! (said in the most whiney DESPERATE voice)


Ugh. It's them. THE KIDS that won't go away. The moment is gone, in an instant. Getting it back is about as likely as snow in Mississippi.

So, what does this have to do with an "Old lady" you ask?

Today, things got...interesting. The awfully timed knocks at the door were followed by "MOM, it's the OLD LADY." The scramble was on. Clothes and blankets flying everywhere. My husband opens the door half ready to strangle the....

OLD LADY?!? Not the front door to the house, mind you. She was at my BEDROOM DOOR. Oh my gaw. I thought Chris was going to die.

You see, there is this old lady next door. She's a bit....mentally challenged. She comes to the front door about twice a week (and only when we're you know... doing it) to ask for a soft drink and stamps. Why the hell she needs so many stamps I don't know. Maybe she's running a chain letter operation out of her house. It's not working out though, because she's having trouble affording soft drinks. So, I generally send her off with a 2 liter and stamp. Today, Chris just sorta uh...shoved her off.

She was at the BEDROOM door folks.

The kids let her in, and then screamed in warning as she approached the SACRED door.

"It's the old lady!!!" I would have died in embarrassment had the whole situation not been so...unusual.

And it didn't snow in Mississippi, so uh... yeah. Leave me alone, now.





P.S. The kids have since been repeatedly lectured about answering the front door. So, if you come to my house and I'm busy... don't expect my kids to open the door. If they do, please refrain my knocking on my bedroom door. Thank you.