Inquiring Minds Want to Know

I am someone who wishes that the habit of leaving a 'calling card' was still in vogue.

Someone rang my front doorbell this morning. They rang it for a long time and then knocked loudly. They rang the bell again.

Who, I wonder?

You may wonder why I didn't just answer it.

I was indisposed.

Trying to hide my whereabouts from Daughter with whom I was talking on the phone.

One cannot hide a thing from that girl. And, vague answers do not satisfy her.

Remember, I do not want her to KNOW that I am in the bathroom.

Daughter: ...pause in conversation..."What's that? Sounds like you are playing with a toy."

Me: ..."It's the clock."

Daughter: "Where do you have a clock that sounds like a toy?"

Me: "In the bathroom."

Daughter: "Oh. What are you doing in the bathroom?"

While trying to think up a clever answer, the doorbell rings. And rings. Then knocks are heard. Then more rings.

Me: "Hiding from whomever is ringing the doorbell!"

Daughter: "Can't you just answer it?"

Me: "Not dressed like this!"

Daughter: "Can't you just run and get dress?'

Me: "Run? Surely you jest! I am a forty minute dryer load away from underwear."

On a normal day, the ringing of the doorbell at 9:00 would BE Daughter and Baby Boy. But, she has an OB appointment later today so is working in the evening.

I thought I would have a leisurely morning of sewing, reading and coffee drinking while listening to the icy wind howl around me.

But, no. That was not to be.

I thought I'd better quickly shower and dress (drawing upon my hidden stash of less than wonderful 'granny panties') as the ringer-knocker-ringer sounded determined.

Whoever you are who ventured out on this sleety, icy, thunderstormy morning, I'm sorry I could not answer your rings and knocks. It seemed urgent. But really, you would have been horrified if I'd answered. Truly, trust me on this one.