"Nanji dato omotte iru no desuka?"
Just what time do you think it is?
Today, just as I had activated the home security system, slung the Pumpkin Princess's Day Care Bag (containing five diapers, a change of clothes, a plastic bib and a folder for any notices she might bring home) and my work bag (severely battered 8 year-old black leather bag...hey, it has character and it has been a part of my life longer than both the Pumpkin Daddy and the Pumpkin Princess, combined) over my shoulder, convinced the Pumpkin Princess that she didn't need a bucket (used for mopping and laundry) to go to day care, and coaxed her to walk down the hall to the door, the bell rang. It was my landlady. She wanted me to sign a petition to...(this is where you insert the sound Charlie Brown's teacher makes when she's speaking to the students, I think she mentioned something about a traffic light somewhere in our neighborhood).
I signed the petition. It seemed the quickest way to get her out of my hair, and it's not like she was trying to get me to sign for a constitutional amendment making gay relationships criminal or a new nuclear power plant 2 miles from our apartment or anything. At least I don't think so.
But why, oh why, did she feel the need to come to my door at 8:15 in the morning??? Do people who don't work full time (she lives on disability and the rent we pay) not have a sense of what mornings are like for people who do? Especially those who have a Pumpkin Princess who needs to get to day care??
When I had finished signing and she had left, the Pumpkin Princess had the bucket in her hands again. I gave up on convincing her a second time, and I strapped her in the car seat, bucket and all. She dropped it sometime during the car trip. We made it to day care and work on time, no thanks to the landlady.