Introversion, Alcohol, and Door to Door Sales PART TWO

I told you I’d be back.

part two of my saga from yesterday actually pertains (I promise, Kate, it does!) to my favorite thing ever: Five Minute Friday.

Today’s theme:

Screenshot 2016-02-12 10.47.30
*Wait for it – there is a connection to the post. I promise.


Such a pretty little graphic. Very Kate Motaung. My post, however, will be very Momsie and thus, not so pretty.

So yesterday I described to you (or tried to) the tangled underwear drawer that is my introverted self. It is a absolutely fascinating journey, into Momsie’s neurotic tendencies. Well, maybe not fascinating. I asked my husband recently how it was, living with me, and trying to figure me out on a daily basis. He didn’t answer for a while, sighed deeply, then came over, gave me a tender kiss, and said,

“Never mind, dear. I’m married to you. We’re stuck together for life.”

That really wasn’t all the encouraging but at least I got a kiss out of it.

Anyhow, I wanted to share with you this really dreadful task that me and my boys were going to take on today, but as you know I got all sidetracked in myself. So here goes. I’m gonna bare it all now. Ready?

We have to fundraise at my darling wee ones’ school. The children have to go door to door to ask for sponsors for Jump Rope for Heart.

Thus, I think I am going to die.

They should call it Jump Rope for Heart Attack.

Ohhhh. I was trying to be cute there and then realized… that’s kind of a depressing twist on things, isn’t it?


There are two problems here. The first and most obvious problem is that my children do not have any sort jump roping abilities. It’s comic. They attempt it and it looks like they’re basically trying to beat themselves up. I watch ’em attempt the rope thingie and think, “Oh sweet ones. Bless your little uncoordinated hearts. The world is hard enough! Come sit here on the couch with me and have a Thin Mint.”

Also this: I cannot go door to door. I just can’t. It will make me one of the people that they are badly jumping rope for.

Here is the (yet another scintillating) conversation I had about this with the really awesome husband:

Me: (speaking in a choked whisper, like I’m discussing a home-colonoscopy or something) We need to go door to door with the boys to help raise money… I gotta go sit down.

Hubs: Oh cool! We should do this as a family! We can all just go up and down ALL the streets! Asking ALL the people in this town for MONEY! Family bonding!

Me: Clearly I should never have married you.

(Don’t worry! See above. We’re stuck with each other. Like, forever. Or until one of us dies because door to door sales.)

I picture pushing my children up the walk and slowly backing away as they go to ring the doorbell.

Nice Neighbor Lady: Oh hello! Two small boys who seem really clueless about what to say! Adorable!

Both boys are suddenly stricken with Low Talking Syndrome and a complete misfire on why they are here on this porch in the first place.

Blonde: Wanna buy me? Jump roping?

Me: (strangled voice from the bushes) Doing great honey!

Red: Dat’s my mom. Right der. In the bushes.

Nice Neighbor Lady: Who? Where? That suspicious stranger lurking over there? Is she bothering you? Should I call the police?

And that’s how I ended up in the slammer because of Jump Rope for Heart.

It could happen.

I am thinking, if you have any pity, you will just go to the website and donate a kajillion dollars for me? It’s for a good cause. It’s the Keep Momsie Alive Fundraiser…

It’s my LIMIT.*

I draw the line at door to door sales, people. My babies are on their own. This is a very Gone With the Wind moment because, as God is my witness, I will never sell door to door again. I gritted my teeth through Bluebirds. I barely survived Girl Scouts and all those cookies. I am DONE.

Follow up: Brian took pity on me and donated online. Thank you, computers! All those times I whined about how all you do is disconnect us from reality? I was WRONG! I LOVE being disconnected from reality! Yea detachment!

And here is a cute Princess Bride meme to help you forget how really, really silly Momsie is. I promise. I’m not actually going to send my sweet babies out there, alone, to knock on doors. I’m just gonna give ’em both their own Visa cards at 6 and 8 years old and they can just take care of it that way.

Should work.







  1. Hysterical I so enjoyed your humor. I am not a door to door person either in fact at one time in our young married life I was an avon lady. I hung the books in the little plastic bags on the door rang the door bell and ran. I could not sell it. No way. You are a great writer I encourage you to keep it up… great reading. We all need some humor these days.

  2. Hilarious! We live in the mountains of Montana so I’d convince my kids it was too far to get to anyone’s house. Then I’d break my car if I needed to so I didn’t have to do that with them. I’m dying to find out how it all went.

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