Consequences
There are consequences to everything that we do. The magnitude of the consequence often totally out of proportion to the act itself.
The latest major event for us has been Suze’s car failing MOT and requiring a replacement. We’re now properly skint, but this is not the consequence I’m thinking about.
The mechanics of getting a new vehicle, giving the dealership enough time to prepare, test and service it for us and get it insured meant that we arranged to pick it up today, four days after choosing the car. The dealership held up their end and had the car ready, the finances were in place and Suze paid for the insurance on Monday.
The insurance cover note should have arrived on Tuesday, that’s first class post right?
It didn’t.
It wasn’t her yesterday either … so I gave may dad a spare key and asked him to pop in and check for post at lunch, then drive it the eight miles to the dealership so they could pay the road fund licence and get the tax disc for the car.
It was only last night, in bed that Suze had a nasty thought.
“Alex”
“What?”
“You know when your dad comes round to check for the insurance …”
“Yeah?”
“Well what if the posty has been with THE PACKAGE?”
(The package being our latest batch of toys, which will be quite a bundle)
“There’ll be a card through, so?”
“Well what if he goes to collect it for us from the sorting office. What I he gets suspicious about the contents.” She had a point he’s very helpful and more than capable of popping in to pick it up for us.
Or even worse…the parcel has to be signed for being recorded delivery and my father doesn’t sign for anything without checking the contents first. 🙁
“It’s all nice and anonymously wrapped so it’ll be fine.” And that’s absolutely true, the packaging from Bedtime Heaven is very anonymous, and they’ve always arrived intact.
Although that wasn’t a problem, if he’d asked I’d have said “Books” or “Stuff I bought online”, it got me thinking. He’s hardly likely to go rummaging around, but what if he popped upstairs to take a leak and caught sight of the bookshelf in the study with something, erm, exotic on it. Of maybe an “artistic” DVD left lying around …
… so this morning, not for the first time when visitors are expected, we did a thorough porn sweep before leaving for work.
And he hasn’t said anything.
Maybe he’s saving it up to embarrass me at Christmas LOL
Reminds me that Emm (then in her twenties)stayed home one day for a guy coming to put a tv arial in the bedroom. So that he could tack it to the skirting board, he asked her if he could move the bed. Beneath was a small hoard of porno mags. Oops!
I had a new kitchen fitted recently and as I was working, I left the key with the guys for about three weeks. On one of the days, the electrician had to do some re-wiring. I had no idea that he needed access to my bedroom, and in particular, the floorboards uner my bed. Which, as it happens, is where I’d thrown my rabbit the night before. When I got back from work, there it was, standing up on the windowsill. How embarrassing was that!
well, that would definitely be a fun Christmastime conversation….lol. xoxo