Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Get Off My Property

The twins have taken up playing a game they call “Get off my property!” Here is how you play get off my property: run up to individuals nearby and yell “Get off my property!” Then laugh diabolically until they either a) hit you or b) get off your property. Which may not even be your property. It might be, say, your mom’s property, and maybe she doesn’t want you jumping on her property and throwing all of the pillows off of it.

Repeat above steps at random times throughout the day.

Yesterday, I was trying to get the kids to put their shoes on and get out the door and into the car. I don’t get these people. They stood by the door, crowding into one another while screaming “Get off my property!” They were holding various items they simply had to bring on the car ride. Can’t go to Grandpa’s house without the red matchbox truck lacking back wheels. They were wearing their jackets, but not one of them had on their shoes.

I turned to Caleb, because he is the oldest, and is therefore supposed to be the most proficient at “getting ready to go outdoors.”

“Why aren’t your shoes on?”

“Oh. I forgot.”

So they all dropped their heavy loads and plopped down in our tiny entryway to put on their shoes. Just then, the doorbell rang. It was a rather pushy Andersen Windows salesman. They always say: “I noticed your house has its original windows.”

I don’t want strange men checking out my windows unless I specifically ask them to check out my windows. It’s just this thing of mine.

Then he started a whole spiel about saving the world by purchasing energy-saving windows and he wanted to book me for an appointment blah blah blah. He went on and on while I shuffled one child after another past him toward the mini-van, all except for Ella, who was and is usually last, because she is small and slow about putting her shoes on.

“I will be back in your neighborhood next we-“

“GET OFF MY PROPERTY!” yelled Ella. Then she laughed diabolically and ran, shoeless, into the van.

And guess what? He did. And I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again any time soon.

8 comments:

hokgardner said...

I got rid of an alarm salesman one time by opening the door and showing three crying kids to him. He asked when a good time would be. I said "never."

Adams Fam: said...

U go Ella!

MGBR said...

(laughing so hard I am crying)

Toaster said...

I thought this was going to be a John story. ;)

Tabitha St. Denis said...

THIS is the best!!!!
I love your mind and how you write.
Ella, will some day realize how perfect her timing was on that day.
love it!!!

Liz said...

Thanks for the laugh this morning!

Tamika said...

Love it!!!! Out of the mouths of babes I say! Lol

Cara said...

Holly, this is Cara Abbey. I wished I had had Ella today. I had the Kirby vacuum traveling salesman come to my door today. My mind flushed with random lies that I could tell them to get them to go away. They wanted to shampoo my rugs which is great but then they'd be there forever. I told them my husband was allergic to soap. They said they don't use chemicals. I said he was pretty much allergic to all kinds of soap. I am so glad they didn't press the issue because I know nothing about soap allergies. They just ended up vacuuming my floors and trying to sell me a two thousand dollar vacuum. I WISHED I had a small child to just terrifyingly scream at them to get off my property. I immediately thought about your children. :)