We live in a nice, quiet, safe neighborhood.
For the most part.
We’ve had some solicitors lately. Just the normal variety…my kids call them:
I picture the Money Girl as a lady carrying two big bags of money, one in each hand, with giant dollar signs on them. Sometimes she is crying because no one will give her more money. Sometimes she is scary like a witch and steals children. Hey, the picture I paint in my head is created by my kids!
Who is the Money Girl? I’ll tell you. It all started one day when we were in a hurry to leave for guitar lessons…please note, we are always in a hurry…please note again, we are always late. As I am rushing around the house, I hear a knock at the door. Said knocker has probably been standing there a while because I’m sure she’s been ringing the doorbell. I unplugged that sucker when Middle Child rang it every 15 seconds while playing on the porch. It was not a pleasant ‘Ding-Dong’ but instead an annoying “Ding-Dong-Ding-Dooooong……Ding-Dong-Ding-Dooooong’.
Back to my story. The Money Girl. The lady at the door was cheery and fast talkin’.
Hi! My name is Linda! I’m from such-and-such program and am going door to door practicing my people and professional skills so that I may move back into the workforce with ease! How am I doing so far? Am I maintaining eye contact? Firm hand shake?
She grabbed my limp hand and gave me a couple of good pumps. Yikes. And, that’s not eye contact, that’s a stare down, Linda!
My three kids have piled up behind me, along with the dog, and we are standing there with a crack in the door that is letting in every fly in the neighborhood. I hate flies. They love my house. Maybe because of the smell? Who can tell.
I informed Linda that I was sorry to be rude…hey, she was working so hard and I am totally shooting her down…but we were in a hurry to leave for guitar lessons.
Fantastic, I have just told a stranger with crazy eyes and a crushing handshake that I’m leaving my house empty. Brilliant move genius.
What to do??
I left and called my neighbor…and asked her to call the cops.
Don’t judge. I still have my television and family jewels. Of course, who is going to want my 500 pound Trinitron t.v. and high school class ring?
Why do we call her The Money Girl? Because, after she came to the door, a friend posted on Facebook that a lady was going door to door asking for money. After this, I told my kids they could only play in the back yard, in the fence, and if they saw someone they did not know that they should come inside right away.
Of course, they like to question authority.
-Why should we come in? Who will we see?
-Well, there’s a lady going around asking for money. We don’t know who she is or what she wants.
-A money girl?? Is she bad? Does she have bags of money? What does she look like?
And thus, the Money Girl, was born.
How about the Steak People? Well, you can read about them next time.
We are late for a meeting, as usual…