I did something yesterday that I feel a tad guilty about. Will had just left the house to run a couple of errands when he called me on my cellphone to report that a man and woman were door-to-dooring and were currently stationed at Zsa Zsa’s house next door. Sure, we’re gearing up for election season, so it could’ve been that. Given that it was a well-dressed couple on a Sunday, they could also have been peddling some version or another of godness.
Either way, I wanted no part of that action. So what did I do? I ran like hell.
I scooped up both kids and dragged them to our bedroom and tried desperately to keep them quiet. They were sort of confused. I told them we were hiding and needed to be Sneaky Petes (totally made up on the fly). They loved that. But my children’s version of quiet and sneaky does not match with my own. My version would have entailed us sitting quietly for a few minutes, waiting for the intruders to go away. Their version involved lots of screaming, giggling, and jumping on my bed.
I am a trifle ashamed. I should have just been prepared to answer the door and give those people the boot – politely. Another option would have been to sic Stella on them. While we were at the Fair last week, some girls came by my aunt’s cabin campaigning for some representative or another (politicking being common at the Fair). Stella glommed onto them like ants on a sugar bowl. Stella helped herself to a bracelet and fan and I heard lots of chit-chat about princesses, tiaras, and I think meatballs. Those girls never stood a chance. She may have to be our new doorman.
Despite our differing opinions of Sneaky Pete-ness, it worked. Either the religion/politics vendors didn’t bother with our door, or my children were so damn loud I couldn’t hear them knocking.