We received a knock on our door yesterday morning. Of course, our first reaction was to stare at each other with panicked eyes assessing our various stages of undress.
Next, we did Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who would answer the door. When Ana lost, we knew we had to choose again…she’d invite them in.
In the end, it was me who answered the door, carefully hunching over and concaving my chest so that my bra-lessness wasn’t obvious.
(Just so you know, this scene plays out every time someone knocks on our door before noon on a weekend.)
Turns out it was my exterior house painter wearing a Santa hat and delivering a tray of cookies. You may recall him from my Camp Cheapo posts – remember when Mr. Bojangles peed all over his belongings and in his coffee?
I thought it was so sweet of him to bring us homemade cookies! And how could I tell they were homemade? Well, at first it was the paper plate and endless layers of Syran Wrap that gave it away. But then I saw THEM, the headless reindeer. Here’s a tip for your next cookie exchange…
*If you’re going to make reindeer with fragile necks don’t streak them with red frosting.
It was a reindeer slaughter scene. Poor Ana cried as she ate a bloody Rudolph and, through her tears, she asked for another.
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