I have wrapped up my maternity leave and am now enjoying my official Mabel duties. One of these duties includes overseeing the Sales Department, which is kind of funny since I almost killed a sales guy this week.
The other evening I was nagged by the sound of a faint knock at our door. I was just starting all the bedtime routines and it was a particularly challenging evening since daddy-o was out of town.
I ignored the nagging knocking as long as possible then finally opened the door. There he was – persistent Sales Guy. He was quick to mention that he didn’t ring the doorbell because it was obvious I had small kids. Pretty observant considering he had to make his way through an obstacle course of strollers, bikes and ride on toys. When he did make it to the front door he was greeted by a poster that says “shhhh…children sleeping”. All that kiddo evidence stopped him from ringing, though it obviously didn’t act as a deterrent from knocking.
A moment after I opened the door, out came the pitch. As he’s yammering on, I’m jiggling a fussy baby, a toddler is yelling from the toilet demanding a bum wipe, big kids are fighting and a little kid is tugging on my leg with pajamas half on. Sales Guy did not take any of that chaos as his cue to bail. Finally I interrupted him.
Me: “Hang on a sec – don’t you see what is going on here? Can’t you see that this is a completely inappropriate time to come to my door? Look around! I can’t even hear a word that you are saying!”
Sales guy: “yes, that’s true. Is there a better time for you?”
Me “yes, come back in spring of 2015 – maybe around dinner time”
Sales guy: “uh, OK”
This incident reminded me of another sales experience I had in spring of 2005. One evening I was alone with three crazy small children and a week away from having baby #4. A young guy came to the front door representing a local golf club. He began his pitch which included however many rounds of golf for one very low price. I gave him a stern look and said something along the lines of:
“Listen here young golf man: no one, and I mean NO ONE in this house is playing golf this summer. You got that? So why don’t you just mosey on along now and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
He looked at me like I was a completely hormonal psycho mama, and that was a pretty accurate assessment. So, now that I’m back at work and looking at our Sales Department, I can tell you with great confidence that you will never hear from anyone at Mabel’s Labels during feeding, bathing, or bedtime at your zoo. Promise. Pinky swear.