Don’t Deliver To My Back Door

This year I made the genius decision to do all of my Christmas shopping online – there’s no way I would choose to go shopping at this manic time of year with 2 kids under the age of 3 in tow. I felt really smug about my idea, quite cocky in fact.

Then I realised what I had done. I realised that I had about 50 billion parcels on the way and I’d actually have to stay at home to receive them. No popping out to Costa for my regular caffeine hit (I have 4 kids, caffeine is pretty much the only thing getting me through each day). No swanning off to visit family members so that I’m not solely responsible for Thing 3 for a couple of hours (she really does require a tag team of adults to keep her under control) and definitely no sneaking out for lunch to save me the hassle of finding something in the cupboard that meets Thing 3’s approval.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, there seems to be a special group of delivery people who think it’s perfectly acceptable to wander through our back garden and deliver to the back door. Now I think this is a chuffing rude thing to do anyway – I wouldn’t dream of just walking into someone’s back garden, that’s their personal space in my opinion.

But it’s even worse in our case:

The massive dog has free run of the back garden and we have a sign on the back gate informing people of this. ‘Do not enter. Dog loose in garden’ I mean how sodding difficult is it to look at the sign and not bloody well enter??

If they get lucky and the massive dog is indoors it causes me a whole shitload of aggravation because now the dog can see a stranger coming into our garden and he goes batshit crazy.

His barking obviously wakes up Thing 4 who has usually only just gone to sleep and is now screaming at the top of her lungs because the bastard dog has just totally ruined her nap.

Then, as the dickhead delivery person starts knocking on the back door, somehow I’ve got to get the angry dog out of the room so he doesn’t lose his shit with the idiot banging on the door, whilst simultaneously shushing Thing 4 and trying not to trip over Thing 3 who is jumping around making her own barking noises.

Then I’m expected to be polite to the person who has caused all this crap. Believe me when I say it takes everything I have not to shove the parcel up their arse!

I’d just like to point out here that the dog might be massive but he is a complete gentleman, a gentle giant if you will. He just doesn’t like unexpected visitors in his personal space and, as you can probably tell, I feel the same way.

I’m still waiting for 100s of parcels so I’m sending out a plea to all you delivery people out there – DON’T DELIVER TO MY BACK DOOR!


Small Victories

We have these neighbours who are constantly doing their house up. They drill so often that I swear they can’t have any walls left!

Their loud DIY often woke Thing 3 up back when she used to have a daytime nap (oh the fond memories) and have generally caused me more frigging headaches than I would’ve had if they’d done the decent thing and decided to set up house somewhere else, like the moon perhaps.

So today when there was a knock on my door and I was asked by a very nice delivery man if I’d take a parcel for my neighbours, I said no. I know it sounds petty but I did it for all those peaceful moments that never came to be. For all those times I sat down with a coffee hoping for some quiet time but thanks to them and their sodding noise it never happened and I was left with cold coffee by the time I had managed to console Thing 3.

I have to admit that a tiny part of me felt guilty as I shut the door but the other part felt chuffed as nuts that I’d achieved this very small victory. *Does happy dance*