There's a civic election Monday and my ward has an over-abundance of candidates for City Council, to say nothing of the school board. Thus for the last month I've been under phone siege by robot survey takers and pre-recorded campaign messages from the major mayoral candidates- though not Ford frere, and a good thing too- and house siege by the hordes of genki canvassers ringing my doorbell and occasionally banging on the screen door if I don't limp down the stairs fast enough for their tastes. (I bang the screen door back at them, wordlessly, and close the inner door in the face of their surprised apologies.)
So when the bell rang Tuesday night I ignored it, though I did think 'That's a very polite bell-push, sounds like my garage renter but it's too early for him'; ignored it when it politely rang again though I wondered 'Maybe Vince needs to talk to me?'; heard next door's bell ring, and thought 'Right, canvassers, good thing I didn't go down.' But then came a distinctly un-adult voice from next door's porch, and I got myself down the stairs as fast as I could. Because it was indeed J-down-the-street and Mom, a little late this year, selling those chocolate mint Girl Guide cookies they only sell in the fall.
Necessarily abstemious, it took me to today to finish the box. (Full shameful disclosure: last year's went overnight.) So of course I had to buy more when I encountered a table of them at the church fair. Two boxes, and one will really, no *really*, go to work on Monday-- right after I vote at the Jesus Is Lord jamboree centre down Christie.