The milkman cometh...
We've been getting Winder Dairy for a couple of months. It's is awesome. I love having people bring stuff to my house. It supports my hermit lifestyle. I actually don't like to go out. I like to go on trips or be at home, but I could never leave my house and be pretty content.
Anyway, Winder man comes once a week in the middle of the night and brings all my milk (and any other goodies I might have ordered that week).
This week I was up late one night, sitting on the living room floor and folding a pile of laundry, so huge that I'd rather not discuss it.
Here's me...Folding, folding, piles are teetering, the mound of socks is growing and growing. I hate matching socks, so I'm seriously considering leaving the pile until the morning and making a little person do it for me.
Suddenly, I hear a very strange noise outside. Someone taking out their trash cans? It's not trash night. Sounds very close. There have been tales of burglers in the neighborhood lately. I haven't set my alarm for the night yet. I decide to look out the window.
I creep to the window and carefully peek through the blinds and see...THERE IS A MAN STANDING ON MY FRONT PORCH!! I don't scream, but I drop the blind and hug the wall, frozen in terror until I realize, wait...the man had a big truck.
A Winder dairy truck.
Oh, it's the stinkin' milkman.
I look one more time to confirm and yes, it's Winder man. Strange noise was him banging my empty milk cartons together.
So word to the wise...Winder man comes about midnight, which in my life is no where near the "middle of the night."
Anyway, Winder man comes once a week in the middle of the night and brings all my milk (and any other goodies I might have ordered that week).
This week I was up late one night, sitting on the living room floor and folding a pile of laundry, so huge that I'd rather not discuss it.
Here's me...Folding, folding, piles are teetering, the mound of socks is growing and growing. I hate matching socks, so I'm seriously considering leaving the pile until the morning and making a little person do it for me.
Suddenly, I hear a very strange noise outside. Someone taking out their trash cans? It's not trash night. Sounds very close. There have been tales of burglers in the neighborhood lately. I haven't set my alarm for the night yet. I decide to look out the window.
I creep to the window and carefully peek through the blinds and see...THERE IS A MAN STANDING ON MY FRONT PORCH!! I don't scream, but I drop the blind and hug the wall, frozen in terror until I realize, wait...the man had a big truck.
A Winder dairy truck.
Oh, it's the stinkin' milkman.
I look one more time to confirm and yes, it's Winder man. Strange noise was him banging my empty milk cartons together.
So word to the wise...Winder man comes about midnight, which in my life is no where near the "middle of the night."
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