Beware of Yoys
I was just wrapping up dinner when I heard that dreadful noise.
DING-DONG! DING-DONG!
The doorbell.
And two quick rings at that. Like someone was anxious.
This was it. They were here to rob and kill us. Of course, I answered the door because I have to let them know the house is occupied. That's my strategy.
Today's mystery door bell ringer was the Scott's Lawn guy. He was thankfully not here to rob and kill us.
He probably thought it was the other way around once I opened the door.
Poodle Yoy was doing her best exorcist imitation. She was already on edge after having the painter here today. She was beyond barking. She was shrieking as I clutched her in my arms.
UH, YES MA'AM, I'M HERE TODAY TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT YOUR LAWN CARE.
Look, I know he's just doing his job, but by six at night, I'm dead from the neck up (credit to Lisa Lampanelli).
Big E, not to miss out on all the action, climbs off the throne and comes sprinting to the door.
There were a few things I'm sure this guy didn't expect behind our front door.
I guarantee full frontal was one of them.
BIG E, PUT YOUR PANTS ON!
I say that like he can pull his pants up. I know he can't. I just don't want this guy to think my kid is a moron.
In the background I hear Little E harmonizing with the dog. He is strapped into his highchair, but has managed to free one arm and the tray, so I'm just waiting to hear him make his fateful leap.
I tried being polite with the Scott's guy. I explained to him that we already employ a weed person.
He confidently strides over to my lawn and picks a weed from the edge of my flower bed.
THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN WITH SCOTT'S!
Oy. Really? Does it have to be this dramatic?
I play the husband card.
I HAVE TO TALK IT OVER WITH MY HUSBAND. HE'S AT WORK.
He pulls out a pen.
GIVE ME HIS NUMBER AND I'LL CALL HIM.
Ah, I see we have ourselves a true salesman.
I CAN'T GIVE YOU HIS NUMBER. HE'S REALLY BUSY.
Truthfully, Mr. Yoy doesn't deal with the lawn stuff. It is all me. I just want to break up with this guy as easily as possible, but he isn't taking the hint.
WHEN DOES HE GET HOME FROM WORK? I'LL COME BACK.
At that point I wanted to break into a combo maniacal laugh/cry.
HE DOESN'T GET HOME UNTIL REALLY LATE AND I'VE GOT THESE TWO MONSTERS TO FEED, BATHE, AND PUT TO BED. ALONE. ALMOST EVERY NIGHT.
He keeps hammering away at me.
THE SPECIAL IS ONLY GOOD TODAY. BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!
I tuned him out and focused on the golden phrase that my mom used over and over again on me as a child.
IF YOU HAVE TO KNOW NOW, THE ANSWER IS NO. (This is a seriously amazing parenting phrase. I can not wait to use it on the Yoys).
Then, I said it aloud. And it was done.
I smiled, grabbed my half naked kid, and went inside to clean up the food Little E had thrown all over the floor.
DING-DONG! DING-DONG!
The doorbell.
And two quick rings at that. Like someone was anxious.
This was it. They were here to rob and kill us. Of course, I answered the door because I have to let them know the house is occupied. That's my strategy.
Today's mystery door bell ringer was the Scott's Lawn guy. He was thankfully not here to rob and kill us.
He probably thought it was the other way around once I opened the door.
Poodle Yoy was doing her best exorcist imitation. She was already on edge after having the painter here today. She was beyond barking. She was shrieking as I clutched her in my arms.
UH, YES MA'AM, I'M HERE TODAY TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT YOUR LAWN CARE.
Look, I know he's just doing his job, but by six at night, I'm dead from the neck up (credit to Lisa Lampanelli).
Big E, not to miss out on all the action, climbs off the throne and comes sprinting to the door.
There were a few things I'm sure this guy didn't expect behind our front door.
I guarantee full frontal was one of them.
BIG E, PUT YOUR PANTS ON!
I say that like he can pull his pants up. I know he can't. I just don't want this guy to think my kid is a moron.
In the background I hear Little E harmonizing with the dog. He is strapped into his highchair, but has managed to free one arm and the tray, so I'm just waiting to hear him make his fateful leap.
I tried being polite with the Scott's guy. I explained to him that we already employ a weed person.
He confidently strides over to my lawn and picks a weed from the edge of my flower bed.
THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN WITH SCOTT'S!
Oy. Really? Does it have to be this dramatic?
I play the husband card.
I HAVE TO TALK IT OVER WITH MY HUSBAND. HE'S AT WORK.
He pulls out a pen.
GIVE ME HIS NUMBER AND I'LL CALL HIM.
Ah, I see we have ourselves a true salesman.
I CAN'T GIVE YOU HIS NUMBER. HE'S REALLY BUSY.
Truthfully, Mr. Yoy doesn't deal with the lawn stuff. It is all me. I just want to break up with this guy as easily as possible, but he isn't taking the hint.
WHEN DOES HE GET HOME FROM WORK? I'LL COME BACK.
At that point I wanted to break into a combo maniacal laugh/cry.
HE DOESN'T GET HOME UNTIL REALLY LATE AND I'VE GOT THESE TWO MONSTERS TO FEED, BATHE, AND PUT TO BED. ALONE. ALMOST EVERY NIGHT.
He keeps hammering away at me.
THE SPECIAL IS ONLY GOOD TODAY. BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!
I tuned him out and focused on the golden phrase that my mom used over and over again on me as a child.
IF YOU HAVE TO KNOW NOW, THE ANSWER IS NO. (This is a seriously amazing parenting phrase. I can not wait to use it on the Yoys).
Then, I said it aloud. And it was done.
I smiled, grabbed my half naked kid, and went inside to clean up the food Little E had thrown all over the floor.
This is an actual door mat. I must own this.
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