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mirellaI don't think Southern Electric will be trying to sell us gas in the near future. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
smallclanger has taken to filling his nappy approximately once a week (ok, sometimes it's a little more often but...). This is good for the first few days, then he starts to be rather farty, and then when the nappy is filled - *phew!*. It takes a lot longer to clean up than you'd imagine, since he often 'gets' his clothes as well. Today I caught him just before the nappy started leaking, and whisked him off onto the changing station, which I covered liberally with paper towels. Just as well because once the nappy was off, more came out (and he weed on his dungarees too, the silly boy). So when the doorbell rang there was no way I could really answer it. The hall light was on and the changing station is essentially in view of the door, albeit through stippled-effect glass and down the hall. I waved, hoping the person at the door would see, and called out that I would be there in a minute. The doorbell went again. Thinking I would go down and answer it shortly, I got the worst of the mess off smallclanger so that, if necessary, I could wrap him in a muslin (plenty of them, easy to wash) and carry him to the door. Doorbell went again, and I called out again, and waved again. The person knocked on the door (which I hatehatehate, it's glass, it sounds horrid). smallclanger giggled. Doorbell went again. I lost it slightly, figured that if it was someone important they'd understand and if it wasn't they jolly well deserved it, and carried smallclanger, unwiped, dirty-side-forward, down the hall and opened the door.
"Southern Electric. Can I ask who you buy your gas from?"
[thinks: oh, how polite. No name, no ID. And no, you bloody well can't ask. I don't actually know, or care.]
Waving disgustingly mucky baby in front of me: "I'm rather busy." Shuts door. Mouths rude words under breath. Baby giggles and attempts to wee on me.
Well it wasn't polite but dang, if I don't feel a lot better for doing it. Now if there was just an aural way of doing it to telemarketers and the like.
smallclanger has taken to filling his nappy approximately once a week (ok, sometimes it's a little more often but...). This is good for the first few days, then he starts to be rather farty, and then when the nappy is filled - *phew!*. It takes a lot longer to clean up than you'd imagine, since he often 'gets' his clothes as well. Today I caught him just before the nappy started leaking, and whisked him off onto the changing station, which I covered liberally with paper towels. Just as well because once the nappy was off, more came out (and he weed on his dungarees too, the silly boy). So when the doorbell rang there was no way I could really answer it. The hall light was on and the changing station is essentially in view of the door, albeit through stippled-effect glass and down the hall. I waved, hoping the person at the door would see, and called out that I would be there in a minute. The doorbell went again. Thinking I would go down and answer it shortly, I got the worst of the mess off smallclanger so that, if necessary, I could wrap him in a muslin (plenty of them, easy to wash) and carry him to the door. Doorbell went again, and I called out again, and waved again. The person knocked on the door (which I hatehatehate, it's glass, it sounds horrid). smallclanger giggled. Doorbell went again. I lost it slightly, figured that if it was someone important they'd understand and if it wasn't they jolly well deserved it, and carried smallclanger, unwiped, dirty-side-forward, down the hall and opened the door. "Southern Electric. Can I ask who you buy your gas from?"
[thinks: oh, how polite. No name, no ID. And no, you bloody well can't ask. I don't actually know, or care.]
Waving disgustingly mucky baby in front of me: "I'm rather busy." Shuts door. Mouths rude words under breath. Baby giggles and attempts to wee on me.
Well it wasn't polite but dang, if I don't feel a lot better for doing it. Now if there was just an aural way of doing it to telemarketers and the like.
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-17 12:38 pm (UTC)I think I just learned something new ;)
Of course for me, currently, the best way of scaring them off is for me to simply answer the door in a skirt. That seems to worry them :) (it'll be better once the facial hair is gone. you'll see ;)