Just Say No!

As I was changing my clothes to go for my walk last night, the doorbell rang. My husband answered the door. I stopped and listened to see if I could figure out who was there, but I couldn't hear anything.

So I grabbed my walking shoes and headed down the stairs, only to find the front door wide open. I stuck my head outside and saw my husband coming up the walk, followed by a man in a bright blue apron, carrying a large bag with him. Not an every day occurrence in my neighborhood, I must say.

While I was curious, I didn't want to get sucked into something that would delay my walk. So I sat down on the stairs to put on my shoes while the men headed into the kitchen. The last thing I saw before heading out the door, was some shiny contraption with long legs sitting on my counter and a bag full of fruits and vegetables. Unusual and a bit unsettling.

You see, he may not know it, but my husband is a soft touch when it comes to door-to-door peddlers. Girl Scout cookies? You bet. Boy Scout Christmas wreaths? Of course. School fund raisers? We can always use a one-ounce package of caramel corn for $10. It's a good cause, right?

So, it was with a bit of trepidation that I left my dear husband alone with "Apron Man" and his fancy tools. I just knew that I'd come home to find the salesman gone but that tool taking up half my counter with its shiny legs. Its official name is The Salad Master. Sounds impressive, huh? And to make matters worse, my husband remembered his parents having one when he was a kid. So that added the whole nostalgia thing to the mix. I just knew we were in trouble!

But, to my surprise and relief, no shiny new kitchen tools were purchased. Instead, "Apron Man' made us a big salad, and offered to fix us a free dinner if only we'd invite some friends over to hear about the lovely selection of pots and pans he was selling. Fortunately, the offer was kindly refused and the salad was eaten with dinner.

So I just want to say, "Kudos to you, Sweetheart!" You stood firm in the face of temptation. However, the next kid that comes peddling magazines at our door will probably leave smiling. It's the little guys that wear you down!