The immediate sound of a dog barking and a cat’s meow as our pets tried to beat me to the door, followed swiftly by “Who is it mum?Who’s there?I’llopenthedoor,mytummystillhurts.”
“Oh hell” I managed to grab a dishtowel and dry my hands tossing the rag over my shoulder. “One sec!” I grabbed the dog’s collar with my left hand. Stuck out my foot to ward off the cat's attempted escape and opened the door while balanced on one foot as my daughter trying to squeeze under my arm in an attempt to see for herself
A nice gentleman in a brown uniform stood there, grinning.
“Here I’ll just give this to you.”
“Right, thanks” I would have smiled back but he was gone in an instant. Either he took his job very seriously and wanted to speed to his next delivery or he was afraid I would suddenly collapse under the pressure behind me and he was next in line to be trampled. A quick kick of my foot and the door closed keeping the menagerie inside. Realizing they were denied the 4 legged animals retreated.
“What was it hun.” My husband called out. I glanced down at the box and froze, my eyes widening. “Um nothing.” I managed to get out.
“Nothing gets personally delivered?”
“It’s a bill, a reminder notice. Hydro is pissed at us. We gotta remember to pay that bill.”
“It’s a box.” My traitorous daughter replied unable to read the writing, she wandered into the living room where her dad sat. Yes, she is young and sill thinks that her daddy has more power then the parcel I held.
“A box? Since when does hydro send a box?”
“They must be out of envelopes.” I rushed past the living room doorway my package held tight to my chest. Such swirled writing, the promise of ecstasy within,
I almost growled when I heard him follow me. “Did that say chocola…”
“NO!”
“Lemme see.”
I growled and snapped at his reaching fingers. “My precious.”
“Oh man” followed by a chuff of indignant air. Yes at the tender age of 8 my daughter has already decided that her parents are weird. She is distracted by the opening jingle to Totally Spies and retreats to the tv.
Yes! 1 down, 1 more to go.
Laughing he reached again, (did the man not understand what mortal peril he was in?)
“It says...Bissinger's?”
“Your name is not on the box therefore you cannot touch. It’s a federal offence.”
At this point I’m being observed as if I have lobsters crawling out of my ears, or he needs to place a call to those white-jacked bozos. “Lemme see the box.” is said slowly as he moves closer..
I curl a lip and snarl holding the box tighter. “Precious”
“Honey, you know I love you…..”
Yes ok, I’m weak, He wore me down and only lost 3 fingers in the process. I shared but only one piece. I am rationing. These things are like milk chocolate coated orgasms. I break out in goosebumps with every bite.
~Girlfriend, thank you soooo much for my treat. *muah*~
4 comments:
*MUAH*
Very much welcome chica.
You're a much better woman than I. There are some things I Just Don't Share. *g*
Lub ya lots Girlfriend *G*
LOL Tori, well Hubby knows how to work around my stubborness, and it was only 1 piece he got *G*
Well the box wasn't entirly full Jim. It contained 2 tins of hot chocolate and a box of completely sinful truffles, the rest of was bunch of green puffs to keep my treats safe while it trecked its way through the postage system.
LOL I'm surprised he got the one piece.
heh heh I'm lucky in that my hubby doesn't really like choco. I know...he's wierd! the oldest kidlet is taking after him. Unfortunately for her thighs, the youngest takes after me. But *cough* managed to get my stash hidden before she saw it.
Post a Comment