My mama taught me to never, ever, ever let people into the house. This may be because, as a family, we are all rather lonely people and we know when the doorbell rings there is probably an issue.
Reminiscent of a 40s bomb shelter, usually my sister and I, pros at never opening the door, just hide in the basement until the internet guys/telemarketers/probably harmless boy scouts get frustrated and go away.
But today we were defeated. The first time we won though.
The first time we were just getting inside, and a weedy-looking man in an orange vest waddled out of the neighbour's yard and told us he was the ComEd guy. We doubted him, so we just waited for him to leave. He left.
BUT THEN.
Three or so hours later, we heard a doorbell. The usual hiding and nervously peeking around all the windows ensued.
AND THE WORST POSSIBLE THING HAPPENED (besides death or asparagus):
So I ran into the basement.
Upstairs, I heard the screen door slide open, and some random man voices.
THERE WERE FOUR, how were we supposed to defeat them???
Apparently they were fixing our sprinkler.
One of them came down to talk to me, so I settled for CIUTATP (casual internet usage to avoid talking to people). You know what I be saying.
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