I can count the number of times we’ve left our house in the past month on one hand, and it’s starting to show. As you may recall from a previous post, we do all of our shopping for groceries online. And since my last post, it has become increasingly difficult to actually accomplish that goal. So when I manage to secure a delivery timeslot, I take it – regardless of the circumstances.
The other day was a perfect example of this. Amazon Fresh finally had an opening (thanks to the AWESOME timeslot delivery finder I mentioned last week), and I grabbed that sucker faster than the speed of light because I was ordering both for us and my elderly neighbor, whose only request this time was for “a nice loaf of white bread.” Unfortunately, the weather report predicted a torrential downpour for precisely the time when I was supposed to get said delivery.
Determined that I would be READY, I prepped my kitchen counter in advance by clearing everything off, planting my Lysol wipes within easy reach, and coordinating B’s lunch schedule so she could start her “quiet time” upstairs right before the delivery arrived.
But, as is the case with all well-made plans, there must always be a kink.
The skies opened up about ten minutes before the groceries arrived, letting loose on two week’s worth of precipitation in the span of about 30 seconds. Puddles on the ground quickly turned into pools, and it looked like Armageddon had fallen upon us.
Like clockwork, though, my diligent Amazon delivery driver rolled up exactly when he was supposed to and parked in front. I watched from the window to ensure that I didn’t lose any time running outside after he left.
And from my window, I witnessed this man open his trunk and launch – literally LAUNCH, from the STREET – three gallons of milk, 2 cartons of orange juice, 2 containers of yogurt, 2 dozen eggs, and 4 paper bags filled to the brim (but not for long) with miscellaneous other things in the general direction of my door. He then proceeded to drive away.
I watched in a mixture of disbelief and horror as one of the gallons of milk exploded on the ground and started spewing milk like a geyser all over my front lawn, as the raspberries that were on top of one of my bags flew in varying directions across the ground.
“OK, we lost a few soldiers,” I thought. “But at least something showed up!”
Already dressed for the occasion, I turned the knob on my front door and was just about to venture outside when I heard my daughter slam – presumably her head – into her wall, which was obviously followed by screams and sobs. I disrobed, ran upstairs, and spent 10 minutes calming her down.
After determining that whatever she did to herself was not life-threatening, I attempted to try again. By this point, all of the groceries were obviously soaked to the core, which meant that as I lifted each paper bag into my arms, it would disintegrate, forcing me to start the process all over again and lose more food each time.
Being even more ticked off than usual, I guess I must have yanked open my storm door a little harder than I was supposed to, because of course right as I was carrying two milk gallons in one hand and two orange juices in the other, I managed to actually dislocate the door from its hinge. That whole thing went flying down the street, and it’s actually a miracle it didn’t hit a car because it totally would have taken out a window (or person).
Several dozen swear words later, all of the groceries were inside and I somehow managed to “fix” the front door. I Lysoled everything and finally unearthed my neighbor’s bread – at the bottom of the bag containing five pounds of potatoes on top of it, of course.
The weight of the potatoes combined with how water-logged the package had now become made the loaf practically unrecognizable, so with the exception of cat food and Ritz crackers, I’m honestly not sure what that poor woman will have to eat between now and our next delivery.
My husband walked downstairs after work that afternoon and asked me how my day went. He’s still alive, in case you were concerned, but it took a lot of restraint to keep him that way.
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