Mmmmm
It being summer and all, I'm often outside when the paper is delivered, which reminds me of this post from February.
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He's finding his way through the snow, the orange stripe of his heavy bag crisscrossing his chest. He's carrying the news. He's a paper...man.
You see men delivering the news in my part of town nowadays, not boys. I have to make this clarification when declaring my crush on the guy who used to pull up in his dented white Ford. The world would move in slow-motion the moment his door opened and his blue eyes lit on mine; somewhere in my garage, Take My Breath Away would begin to play, and I would find myself saying things before completely thinking through the implications. On the day he pulled in while my kids and I waited for their playdate to arrive, I told him why we were there and added, "But you can stay and play."
And you wonder why my husband is happier when I stay indoors.
But my efforts paid off: the paper appeared right on our doorstep without fail. No trudging out in the cold for us! Then one day, a beat-up Cadillac pulled near the base of our driveway and tossed the paper a few feet, managing to throw it in the exact path our tires travel. Every day I'd smoosh the paper until Greg finally asked him about it.
"Where would you like it?" the large man bellowed.
"Near the front door," Greg said.
"HA! I bet you would!" he said.
We had little hopes of ever reading a paper without tire tracks again, but Cadillac Man came through. To stay on his good side, we made him a plate of chocolate chip cookies at Christmas.
He sent a thank you note with our next paper. It began with this sentence:
"Mmmmmm cookies."
It also included a business card for real estate.
So we're good. It's probably best that Blue Eyes is gone; I can focus my attention elsewhere.
Because have you seen the mailman?
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He's finding his way through the snow, the orange stripe of his heavy bag crisscrossing his chest. He's carrying the news. He's a paper...man.
You see men delivering the news in my part of town nowadays, not boys. I have to make this clarification when declaring my crush on the guy who used to pull up in his dented white Ford. The world would move in slow-motion the moment his door opened and his blue eyes lit on mine; somewhere in my garage, Take My Breath Away would begin to play, and I would find myself saying things before completely thinking through the implications. On the day he pulled in while my kids and I waited for their playdate to arrive, I told him why we were there and added, "But you can stay and play."
And you wonder why my husband is happier when I stay indoors.
But my efforts paid off: the paper appeared right on our doorstep without fail. No trudging out in the cold for us! Then one day, a beat-up Cadillac pulled near the base of our driveway and tossed the paper a few feet, managing to throw it in the exact path our tires travel. Every day I'd smoosh the paper until Greg finally asked him about it.
"Where would you like it?" the large man bellowed.
"Near the front door," Greg said.
"HA! I bet you would!" he said.
We had little hopes of ever reading a paper without tire tracks again, but Cadillac Man came through. To stay on his good side, we made him a plate of chocolate chip cookies at Christmas.
He sent a thank you note with our next paper. It began with this sentence:
"Mmmmmm cookies."
It also included a business card for real estate.
So we're good. It's probably best that Blue Eyes is gone; I can focus my attention elsewhere.
Because have you seen the mailman?
Excellent writing, as usual! What did blue eyes do when you invited him to stay?
ReplyDeleteGlad your husband is the tolerant type and its probably best that young blue eyes ain't around any more.
ReplyDeleteAnd why do you get an actual paper delivered? I'm impressed.
HH: I believe he smiled politely, backed away slowly, then took off running.
ReplyDeleteRB: Yes, but let's notice my husband hasn't yet commented here. Greg? Greg?
Speaking of Greg, he's had a policy that everywhere we move, we get the paper for at least a time. It's a good way to get to know a town and what to do in it--I'm too lazy to track all that down on the internet.
Ahhh, crushes. They're an inevitable part of life for those of us who live and love large. We don't have to act on them, but we sure do experience them, huh? Great post!
ReplyDeleteYeah, that's it: I live and love large! I'm stealing that excuse--I mean, uh, description of a legitimate way of life--next time Greg complains.
ReplyDelete