{"id":2674,"date":"2012-07-26T06:30:37","date_gmt":"2012-07-26T13:30:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.streamdoubletrouble.com\/?p=2674"},"modified":"2012-07-26T21:26:47","modified_gmt":"2012-07-27T04:26:47","slug":"the-solicitor","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/streamoftheconscious.com\/the-solicitor\/","title":{"rendered":"The Solicitor"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/a><\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t the poor guy’s fault. He was just trying to do whatever summer job he\u2019d been suckered into \u2013 rumor has it high school type kids are running low on options these days.<\/p>\n The doorbell rang at about 6:30, the typical delivery hour for our particular UPS route (with the driver who I\u2019m pretty sure thinks we\u2019re running some sort of Diapers.com scam out of our house due to the never-ending stream of boxes). It wasn\u2019t the latest supply of Pampers Cruisers (now in Size 5!)<\/p>\n With one shoe on, my sweater off, my hair falling askew from the business-professional bun it had been wrapped in, and tiny shoe prints marking my skirt, I looked every bit the frantic disheveled mother targeted on TV dinner commercials.<\/p>\n My children were presently in a manic state. One of them was dripping. Both of them were sticky. The following conversation had occurred as their preschool day came to a conclusion:<\/p>\n Me: Why does my son have a red head? Staring at me across the threshold and standing about six feet back from the front door was a young man holding a book.<\/p>\n I was holding a knife in the hand currently covered in the red-hot treat, sticky licking sweets.<\/p>\n In the other hand, I grasped the collar of the black dog \u2013 who was frantically and ferociously lunging toward the door with frantic vicious sounding howls and growls at the unsuspecting young man trying to hock his wares.<\/p>\n (The crazy canine was simply trying to remind me that no one had yet fed him dinner. And as such he needed to warn the entire neighborhood that the world was Going. To. End. Imminently.)<\/p>\n The other dog was running rampant around the kitchen trying to tackle a small child and lick his face, which was covered in jelly. Said child was marching around shouting, \u201cSAMMICH!\u201d<\/p>\n However, given the knife in my hand and accompanying boysenberry jam smeared about my person, there is a good chance the unwelcome solicitor may have heard screams of \u201cStabby!\u201d (I couldn\u2019t tell you \u2013 as I\u2019m becoming increasingly fluent in toddler.)<\/p>\n Not to be deterred from his sales mission, the young man at the door resolutely spoke up. \u201cHi. Nice to meet you.\u201d Complete with the mimed movement of shaking hands \u2013 even though he was standing six feet away, looking suspiciously at the freaked out black dog.<\/p>\n \u201cIs now a good time?\u201d he asked, clearly the beginning of his script.<\/p>\n In the background, another child was busy liberating every last instant oatmeal packet he could find from the restrictive confines of it\u2019s paper packaging. His bloody (jammed) brother had scaled the jogging stroller and descended rapidly as it tipped over, sending him shooting backwards as he squealed, \u201cWheeeeeeee\u201d like the Geico commercial piggy.<\/p>\n \u201cNow is not a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut this is to discuss my college preparedness, so I can get ahead,\u201d he persisted.<\/p>\n \u201cNow is not a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut if I could just take a moment of your time\u2026so I can get to college.<\/p>\n I looked at him. Then at the muppets running amuck around the house, a sticky trail of handprints dotting the wall.<\/p>\n Still holding the knife (which was totally not from stabbing anyone or thing in a fit of fury, but rather mid-PB&J attempt to quell the crisis currently being experienced by the child screaming \u201cSAMMICH\u201d \u2013 or, you know, possibly \u201cStabby\u201d), I repeated:<\/p>\n \u201cNow is not a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut if I could just take a quick minute\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going to close the door now. Or no one, No One, is getting to college. Ever.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOATMEAL!\u201d shrieked a muppet in celebration, as flakes went flying.<\/p>\n I do wonder if he was selling knives door to door.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It wasn\u2019t the poor guy’s fault. He was just trying to do whatever summer job he\u2019d been suckered into \u2013 rumor has it high school type kids are running low on options these days. The doorbell rang at about 6:30, … Continue reading
\nTeacher: We finger painted today.
\nMe: Did he get on any the paper?
\nTeacher: No.<\/em><\/p>\n