|image source: ellisbenus.com|
Those friends in my inner circle, well yes, they’re more than welcome to come in when things are the way they are more often than not: when I’m in the middle of a laundry marathon, three kids’ worth of school papers are littered across every exposed counter surface (also, the floor, not gonna lie), piles of pet hair that one could make their own pet from are in the corners of the downstairs room and dishes from two meals ago are spilling out of the sink. It’s more than a few stray crumbs on the floor and a load (singular) of laundry on the couch pretty much all the time here, and it drives me nuts. For people with whom I’m not particularly close to see this inner chaos, is a different thing entirely and just thinking about it it makes me cringe.
So keep that in mind with what I’m about to tell you.
This morning, I was giving my youngest a bath before school when I heard/felt this loud, rhythmic noise that vibrated the house. It gave me pause to wonder what it could possibly be, but I quickly assumed it was someone having their sprinklers blown out, likely the HOA with our greenbelt areas and shrugged it out of my mind. I was dressed but not made up and my kindergartener was just coming down for breakfast when my doorbell rang at 7:40 a.m.!
7:40. A. M.
What in the blessed world?!?
I opened my door to a strange man on my doorstep, assuming he was going to ask me if I wanted my sprinklers blown out for a low, low price.
You know what they say about you and (mostly) me when one assumes, right?
“You do realize that it is not even 8 am?” I snapped, while I opened my door, hunched over with one hand grabbing my escape-tendencied dog’s collar to keep him from running out, exposing my house’s current state of disarray to the street.
“Uh, yeah, that’s why I’m here – I saw your lights on and wanted to apologize for the noise.”
Sheepishness began to creep in.
And my mouth filled with the flavor of my big, fat, foot.
He continued, “We didn’t know that the carpet cleaning was going to be so loud," as he nodded toward the Stanley Steemer truck in the street with hoses running into the newly vacant home next door. "We’re your new neighbors.”
So much for on the spot hospitality.
I very hastily attempted to back pedal.
“Oh! Oh my gosh, no, I’m so sorry. I’m not normally this grumpy, it’s just I thought there was a sprinkler company blowing people out and I thought you were going to try and sell me services and we don’t need that because we already did it,” I rambled. “It’s just so early and the door bell's loud and my husband recently had surgery and well…” I motioned my hand to the living room behind me, demonstrating the very cluttered and dirty layout of our home.
Then he said, “Oh, no, I’m really sorry,” referring to Seth, “I hope we didn't wake you – we really didn't want to start out like this…”
Now it was my turn to feel apologetic - I surely didn't want him to feel bad because of my stress levels.
“Oh! No, no, no, no, you’re fine!” I rapidly tried to assure him. “No, I just thought you were a solicitor, but this, being neighbors, that changes it. We’re good!”
We awkwardly introduced ourselves and assured each other that we’d come around at a more decent hour and get to know one another.
I hope I convinced him that I really didn’t mind the noise. And that once I got over the initial assumption that he was a solicitor, I really actually thought it was sweet and considerate of him to come check on whether it was bothering us or not.
If not, I plead the very pathetic effect the combination of lack of sufficient (any?) caffeination, not yet having taken my little blue pill for the day, a little mama bear in me, and sheer oblivion to the goings on of our street had on my current mental state.
So...while I'm still mustering the courage to let people see my horribly cluttered and dirty home, I think that I get a medal for bravery in sharing this story. Isn't that like virtual bravery?