So, I've been saving this one for a week or two. Since I'm in a pretty good mood today, the sun is shining, my husband's home from his business trip and all is right with the world, I figure we're ripe for a little public humiliation. Why not?
The other morning, after Chris had left for work, I left Hayden in her playpen with a variety of toys to amuse herself so I could grab a quick shower. When I looked in at her just before hopping in, she was happily reading her books and babbling to herself.
I was thoroughly suds-ed up and singing a happy little ditty (something about the itsy bitsy spider, I think) to let Hayden know I was nearby and, let's face it, because I can rock me some nursery rhymes! All of a sudden - DING-DONG!. I froze, soap running down my face. Who on earth could that be at this hour? It's not Saturday, so it's not the Jehovah's Witnesses. It's not Monday, so it's not the Garbage man coming to gripe at me for not putting out my recycling bin for the 3rd week in a row. Chris has a key, as do my inlaws. Someone must be lost!
Then again, DING-DONG! Shoot! They're not going away. Stay cool - they'll get the hint, I think. Of course, "staying cool" is much easier said than done when you're naked, coverd in soap, and home alone with a baby.
As I'm doing my best to rinse off and finish up, I hear it again, more urgently - DING-DONG! DING-DONG! DING-DONG! DING-DONG! Crap! Maybe it is my inlaws, and they can't find their key. Or one of them is hurt, or something happened to Chris on the way to... crap! I think all of this as I snatch my towel off the hook, rub the soap out of my eyes and go running (which, in a tile and granite bathroom is quite a dangerous proposition while soaking wet, by the way) out of the bathroom, skidding through the bedroom as I try to position the towel to cover all the 'essentials', and as I'm dashing to the hallway to peek at the front door, the bell calls out again DING-DONG! DING-DONG!
And it is then, in that precise moment that I hear the doorbell coming from behind me, from my BEDROOM, where my daughter is PLAYING with her TOYS in her playpen, that I recall the interesting little fact that we didn't install a doorbell at this house. Why? Lots of various reasons, none of which are as important as the fact that one of the toys I'd handed Hayden was a set of car keys and key fob. A key fob that plays a variety of noises when the buttons are pushed. Including a doorbell sound.
As I turned around and dripped my way back to the bedroom, I saw Hayden, grinning and bouncing, waving her key fob around wildly, blowing raspberries and giggling at me as if to say, "good one, mom."
1 comment:
LOVE. IT.
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