The highs and lows of parenting and real estate.

Luck, Booze and Pig Are All On My Side

I woke up this morning to a chorus of “TGIF!!!1″s on the twitter and immediately wanted to punch multiple people in the face. I spent my time in the shower brainstorming a post that was to be titled: 10 Reasons TGIF Does Not Apply to Realtors or Mothers. (I’ll boil it down for you: children’s birthday parties and 15 houses to show in Maricopa, are the big soul-sucking reasons.)

But then something amazing happened that changed my day.

Twice this week a little slip had appeared on my door about a package some company was trying to deliver. I had finally called them and let them know I would be home most of Friday morning so they could try again. The delivery-scheduling chick told me someone would appear between 8am and noon.

That was all well and good, except of course, for one tiny, 15 minute time-slot. Jonas’s Montessori drop-off time is 8:30am. I would be gone for exactly 15 minutes in that four hour window to shuttle him to school. I’m no mathematician, but odds should have been in my favor, right? Like he only had a one in 16 chance of showing up while I was gone (look at that, maybe I am a mathematician – suck it, mathy people!).

Ah, but I’m no dummy. I know how this goes. Just because lightening isn’t real likely to strike me, doesn’t mean I’m going to stand outside during a rainstorm waiving a golf club around. I left a note taped to my front door explaining that I would be gone briefly to drop off my kid and that if he was there while I was gone, the deliveryman was welcome to sign for me and drop the package at the door.

Well, of course the guy showed up exactly while I was gone. Fabulously, even though this sticker was on the top of the box:

apparently the dude either decided my note was written by a pathetically elderly and sober person and I was thus trustworthy or he was just as tired of playing ‘drop off the package’ tag as I was, because he totally left it at my door.

If that wasn’t amazing enough already, this is what I unearthed when I cut open the box:

Yep, I got a ‘wine and swine’ gift package from a past client. I’m not sure I could love anything more. Jonas is cute, but does he come in a box claiming ‘meat candy’ and 13% alcohol? I think not. I’m fairly certain this gift box is an excuse, nay, an obligation, to drink red wine with breakfast. I mean, right?

So feel free to TGIF away, people. You’ll avoid bodily harm by my hand, today. I’m too busy TGFWASing (thank god for wine and swine) to exact any revenge.

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